Teach the Heart to Reflect the Wound
by apocalypse cabaret
Summary: AU. Because in the end I always get the better of me.
1. Prologue

_"I take a scar every time I cry.  
Cause it ain't my style, no it ain't my style."_ - **The Distilers**

**- - - - - - - **

"No way, Dad. There's no way I'm going to see a, a... shrink, of all things."

Charlie rolled his eyes, "No ifs, ands, or buts, Bella. You can't help yourself, so Doctor Yorker is going to help you get over it. And the correct term is _psychotherapist_."

I blatantly rolled my eyes and shook my head, pulling a plain black jacket on and grabbing the keys to my truck, but Charlie just shook his head.

"No, _I'm_ driving you this time, Bella. I'm sorry, but I know you'll just drive around and not go to your appointment."

I rolled my eyes and heaved an extremely angry sigh, then stomped outside and opened the passenger door to the cruiser, shoving myself in and heaving another annoyed sigh.

Charlie lumbered outside and got into the cruiser, pausing for a moment to stare at me, his daughter, the crazy one, who was just staring blankly out the windshield, eyes narrowed, and arms crossed across my chest.

"Look, Bell, I'm re-"

I rolled my eyes and waved him off, "Save it. Let's just get this over with."


	2. From Apathy to Sympathy

_"What's the point denying when we all know we are lying to ourselves (__**and you can't keep that smile off your face**__)"_** – Streetlight Manifesto**

**- - - - - - - **

The _therapist_ as Charlie so lovingly put it, sits across from her in a nice tan pants suit with white pinstripes. She just continues asking a random question here and there, and then jotting more answers down on her pad. Me, I just roll my eyes and stare at the white walls.

White is the epitome of all bland colors. While black absorbs everything, white sort of releases everything. Unfortunately, white and tan aren't good releasing colors, so to speak.

"So," the therapist says, leaning back in her office chair and staring at me, "Your dad said that your boyfriend broke up with you and left recently and you've been like a, what he called _walking zombie_, was the metaphor he used, I believe."

I shrugged, staring at my old messy converse, black, with doodles here and there, covered in mud. "It's been four months" I said through gritted teeth.

She nodded and jotted something down on her paper, then looked back up at me, "Usually most girls get over that sort of thing in a few weeks."

I shrugged and looked back to my shoes, the different permanent marker colors didn't mesh well with the typical beige carpet. I yawned, indifferent, and looked at my watch. Fifteen more minutes.

"Your dad also said you weren't reading, listening to music, or eating well at all. Those are all signs of severe depression." She says, tapping a white high heeled shoe on to the carpet twice, as if scolding me.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, "So?"

She sighed, "If you loose too much weight we can admit you to the center in Port Angeles for anorexia."

I shrugged, "I'm not under weight for my height, I know."

She sighed again, and cocked an eyebrow, looking doubtful, "What size are you? Pants and shirts?"

I shrugged, "A zero in pants, and smalls in shirts, I think."

She sighed, "Isabella," she started.

I rolled my eyes, "Bella. Not Isabella."

She sighed again, "Right, _Bella_. A zero is practically a child's size. I believe a child could actually fit in zeros. Actually, I think my ten year old daughter could fit in zeros."

I shrugged, "Don't psychologists and psychotherapists have one of the highest suicide rate in the United States?"

She pushed her bangs out of her face and huffed, "Well, Bella," she stammered.

I rolled my eyes, "Guess so. Time's up. See you next week."

- - - - - - - - -


	3. The Comfort in Being Sad

_"In her false witness, we hope you're still with us,  
To see if they float or drown  
Our favorite patient, a display of patience,  
Disease-covered Puget Sound  
She'll come back as fire, to burn all the liars,  
And leave a blanket of ash on the ground" _– Nirvana

- - - - - - - - - -

I trudged into the waiting room, which was just as badly decorated as the _therapist_'s office. Charlie put down his old copy of _People_ magazine, which I know he wasn't really reading anyway. I sighed and sat down in an uncomfortable gray chair and sighed, looking over at Charlie, "She wants to see you" I said flatly, rubbing my temples.

He just nodded, getting up out of his equally bland gray chair and walking into the shrink's office. I just sighed and stared blankly at the wall, I had a feeling she would have a lot to say to Charlie.

As if on cue, the door opened and in stumbled a boy with dark brown curly hair, and fairly tanned skin. He clutched his dark leather jacket closer to his body, and grumbled a few obscenities, before shutting the door quickly.

"Damn," he mused, looking from the wet snow on the carpet, to the door, and then to me, "It's really coming down out there."

I merely cocked an eyebrow, annoyed at the fact that he had broken my thoughts. He merely shrugged, and then flopped down in the chair next to me.

"Waiting for someone?" he asked taking off a pair of expensive looking Ray Ban wayfarers, or as Phil would have called them, 'Bob Dylan sunglasses.'

I just rolled my eyes and ignored him point-blank, going back to staring at the white wall in front of me.

He cocked his head and looked down at the same copy of _People_ that Charlie had been reading earlier.

"Britney Spears is prego." He said with a slight laugh.

I rolled my eyes and quipped a quick, "I _know_, and I don't really _care._"

He just sighed and shook his head, breathing out a hard-to-understand, "_Hopeless,_" under his breath.

Hopeless is an adjective. An adjective is a word that describes. Put an adjective with a noun, verb, and subject, and you have a sentence. That's without getting complex and not adding in things like 'subject verb' and 'pronouns.'

Things like adjectives, verbs, nouns, pronouns, adverbs, and numerous other grammatical terms make up people. If you think of it like a complicated work of art, a Salvador Dali painting, per se, you may grasp the concept better.

See, when you look at a Dali painting, you can see numerous different things in it. And some people may not see the exact same things. For instance, with the painting, "The Toreador," not everyone can see the noses and mouths in the painted women's chests.

_Hopeless_ is a good adjective to describe me. _Hopeless_ is the looks that Jessica and Mike give me day in and day out.

Two word synonym for Hopeless: **Lost Cause.**

I noticed the boy looking over at me, causing me to just roll me eyes and sigh-scoff simultaneously.

"You're in my personal space."

He looked up from his copy of _People_ and cocks an eyebrow, "Huh. I guess I am. I'm Andrew, by the way." he said, extending his hand to me.

"And I'm not interested." I said, staring blankly at the wall again.

He winced slightly, "Ouch, denied."

I roll my eyes; the wall was more interesting than this kid.

He sighs, "And the cold shoulder? Jesus, all I tried to do is be friendly. That's what generally _nice_ people do, you know, start a conversation and whatnot."

As I said, the _wall_ was more original than this guy. So, I just gave him a blatant 'shut up' sigh.

He just huffed and pulled and went back to his copy of _People_, mumbling _"Women_" under his breath.

I just sighed again, and focused on the white wall.

About ten minutes later, Charlie walked out of the door, white piece of paper in hand and annoyed look on his face.

"C'mon, Bella." He said gruffly, nodding to the woman again and giving me _the look_.

The boy, _Andrew_, or whoever, smirked and mouthed _You're in trouble now._

I just rolled my eyes and pulled my jacket close as Charlie opened the door.

- - - - - - - - - -

**Author Note: **Hi guys. I just wanted to say thanks for reviewing if you did, and I want to give a hugemongerous thanks to sillybella for being an awesome beta, even though I'm usually too stubborn to ask. Also, feedback is extremely appreciated, and I love to hear what you guys think because I'm really loving this story, and trying to make it perfect, in canon, etc, etc. So, anyway. How are you today? 


	4. No Lies, Just Love

_"And I sat watching a flower  
As it was withering  
I was embarrassed by its honesty  
So I'd prefer to be remembered as a smiling face  
Not this fucking wreck  
That's taken its place"_ – Bright Eyes

- - - - - - - - - - -

_Andrew_ was right. It really was coming down outside. I rushed into the safe cab of the cruiser and pulled my jacket closer to my body for warmth, or lack thereof. I had a feeling I should have brought that heavier and more expensive Abercrombie… thing Charlie bought me for Christmas. The gray one.

Which is supposedly really warm, for the hundred or so bucks I think he paid for it. Too bad I haven't really worn it. Not that I'm ungrateful, or anything.

He merely sighed when we get in the car, then managed a small smile at me, which I returned slightly, out of courtesy more than anything else.

"I was thinking we could go to that family diner for dinner tonight," he said, sending a questioning glance in my direction.

I just shrugged and nodded, "That's fine."

He just nodded and backed the car out of the space, and pulled out into the road to head to the small restaurant. The car ride, of course, was awkward, as per usual. Charlie turned on the radio to some sort of NPR type station, knowing that I didn't want to hear any way, shape, or form of music. Even if it was some corny R&B Ballad. Or Fergie.

I yawned slightly, blinked at the bright lights of the neon diner which had some generic name like "Floyd's" or "Flow's" or "City Diner" something to that extent. Not that Forks would be considered a city, or anything.

The chief and I got out of the car and walked into the diner, where it was considerably warmer inside the diner. At least it wasn't wet and cold like it was outside.

Internally, I think I probably felt (and probably looked) like a drowned rat. But that's beside the point.

We were seated at a booth and given those generic looking menus. I sighed and flipped through to the back of the menu, hoping they were still serving some way, shape, or form of breakfast. A cheap and minimal breakfast.

"So, what do you want, Bells?" Charlie asked, glancing surreptitiously up at me from his menu, and then to the waitress waiting for our orders.

I just shrugged, glancing back at the menu. Honestly, I felt that if I ate anything I might puke it up. Charlie cocked an eyebrow at me, waiting for an answer. The waitress just looked tired and bored.

"Uh, pancakes. And a cup of coffee."

"Decaf or regular?" the waitress asked, writing my order down on a pad.

"Uh, regular." I replied.

She just nodded and forced a smile, taking our menus, "I'll be right out with that."

I sighed, now I couldn't hide behind my menu.

Charlie passed the time telling me something or other about work, and how someone's kid had gotten arrested for some drug charge, which was rare. I just nodded and added the appropriate "mhm"'s and "uh-huh"'s at the right time and attempted to feign interest.

Finally, the food arrived, along with my cup of coffee, which I took gratefully and put two sugar packets in.

Charlie just began eating his omelette, glancing at me every now and then.

I just poked at my pancakes, cutting each one into small pieces and eating them one by one.

He frowned slightly, "Don't you like your pancakes?"

I just looked up and shrugged, "They're okay, I guess."

I poked two with my fork and stuffed them in my mouth, just to console him. He just sighed and went back to his omelette, while I went back to picking at my pancakes.

"Bella?" He asked, observing my constant moving around and picking at my pancakes, "How much do you weigh?"

I shrugged, "I have no clue, I haven't checked in a really long time?"

Charlie frowned, "Huh. Can you make a guess?"

I just took a drink of my coffee and frowned, "I don't know. As I said, I haven't weighed myself in a long time. The last time I think I weighed 102, or something."

His eyes narrowed, "And the last time a _doctor_ weighed you?"

I just shrugged again, "No clue."

He just arched an eyebrow, "And what was your original weight?"

I glanced up at the ceiling, calculating how much I had weighed before… well, you know, _he_ left. "Around 110, I think."

He just took a bite of his omelette and frowned, "So," he said with a frown, "You're about… 96 now."

"Wait, how did you know that?" I have to admit, I was a bit flustered here.

Again with the omelette-soda combination for an answer, "I'm a cop, Bella. We're supposed to be able to gage weight."

"Oh. I'm perfectly fine, dad. You don't have to worry."

He just took a drink of his soda again and frowned, "Well, the doctor said…"

"You mean the _shrink_, dad? Shrinks don't count. They're supposed to shrink your problems, not analyze your weight."

"Well Bella," he sighed, "Actually, they are supposed to analyze your weight."

I just rolled my eyes and took another drink of my coffee to contemplate that idea. As far as I figured, this whole 'shrink' thing wasn't going to help me a bit. I figured I'd just bullshit her with some story to keep her occupied. "Huh. And what does she think?"

He just looked down at his omelette for a long time and sighed, "She thinks you're border lining on anorexia, Bella."

I just rolled my eyes, "I told you before, dad, I'm _fine._ There's nothing wrong with me."

He just frowned again, looking extraordinarily indecisive about what he was about to say, or do… or something. Finally, he pulled out a prescription notice and shoved it towards me.

**ZOLOFT**

**100 MG**

**TAKEN ONCE DAILY.**

"She also said that you showed all the signs of being clinically depressed, Bella." He said tiredly, finishing the last of his hash browns.

I just glared at him. I wasn't depressed, and I damn well wasn't anorexic. I was fine. Just _fucking_ fine, thanks very much. I don't need pills to make me feel better. I don't need pills for the panic attacks when anyone mentions _his_ name. Pills would be like… a crutch. A crutch doesn't help people get better. It's just there as support, something that keeps you sane, or normal, or whatever.

The definition of a crutch is "a device used for personal support."

See: Zoloft, 100 milligrams, take once daily.

See: Useless

The definition of useless is "of no use; not serving the purpose or any purpose; unavailing or futile."

See: Bella Swan, post leaving of Edwa-_him_, Age 18, currently residing in Forks, Washington.

"_Dad_," I hissed through gritted teeth, "I don't need a **crutch**. And I don't need any _help._ Because I'm perfectly _**fine**_. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me."


	5. One Headlight

_"She said it's cold  
It feels like Independence Day  
And I can't break away from this parade  
But there's got to be an opening  
Somewhere here in front of me  
Through this maze of ugliness and greed  
And I seen the sun up ahead  
At the county line bridge  
Saying' all there's good and nothingness is dead  
We'll run until she's out of breath  
She ran until there's nothing' left  
She hit the end - it's just her window ledge" _– The Wallflowers

- - - - - - - - - - -

**ANDREW.**

Ah, group therapy. Generally, it's the most hated part of rehab. See, one-on-one, your secrets are fine. The therapist keeps everything confidential. With group? Oh no. No way. At least I wasn't going to group in LA. God, that would have killed me. At least Elodie and Chase did the _right_ thing for once. One of the first things.

I lean back in my uncomfortable chair and give Dylan and Ryan 'the look.' They just smirk back and listen to Michael blab about how he's been sober for five years. Which is impressive, because he doesn't _look_ like he's been sober for five years. I guess that's what small towns like Forks do to people. There's nothing to do, but there's always somewhere you can go and drink.

In a big city like LA, there's _too much_ to do, so you get bored easily.

And, in my case, boredom leads to cocaine.

Michael continues to ask everyone to introduce themselves. There's Ana, who has a nasty case of binge eating. John, who is just terminally depressed and drinking way too much. Dylan, who had an intense anger problem. And Ryan, who was abused by his dad. And then there were a few others, including me, Andrew Kingston, son of that prominent LA Judge, the reformed cokehead.

I stretched in my chair and continued listening to the lecture about sobriety and how to get over your problems. Well, not over, but you know, get better. Then Michael continued on asking everyone to introduce themselves, because we had a new member tonight.

Finally, after I heaved a tired sigh and he came to me, "And you, son?"

I just cocked my head and looked up, "Oh, uh, right…" I stammered, "I'm Andrew, and I've been sober for about… seven months. No more cocaine for me." I said with that typical Kingston smirk, inherited via my dad, who apparently was a "real charmer" back in the day, according to Elodie.

Numerous "Hi, Andrew's" were murmured from around the room. And Michael went on to his introducing.

I wasn't really paying attention until I saw her. She was that chick from Aunt Sam's counseling office. Man, she was a _bitch_. I don't know what the hell her problem was, but I recognized her from the popular crowd at Forks High last year. I was banished to this hell hole to get me away from my friends, so said my mom. Of course, it's not that hard to find cocaine in a small town like this.

So, rehab.

"Hi, um, I'm Bella. And I really, really don't want to be here."

She looked like she was about to have a panic attack, and I smirked. Probably the 'I-have-to-protect-my-reputation' type of girl. I know I'm not one to judge, but regardless. She wore a heavy looking Abercrombie jacket. Must be one of those types.

She dated that one kid last year, the one who played hard-to-get, what was his name… Edwin? Something like that. I knew he was the doctor's son, because when I OD'ed his dad was the one who put me in the ICU. His last name was Cullen. E-something Cullen.

"Bella, why are you _here_?" Michael asked calmly and smiled.

She crossed her arms over her chest, "Because my dad and my shrink said I had to come."

Michael frowned, seeing that she would be a tough one. "Why do _they_ think you should be here?"

She just shrugged, "My dad said that the shrink told him that I was borderline anorexic and clinically depressed. And he said I've been "zombie-like" since September." she said indifferently.

Her arms were still crossed over her chest, which I learned in rehab was a sign of being a "closed off" person. I used to be a closed off person, but not anymore.

My eyes met hers for a brief second, and she recoiled almost instantly, as if afraid to look at me. I just sighed slightly and looked over at Ryan and rolled my eyes. He just nodded and shook his head.

Finally, it came time for my favorite part of rehab, the coffee and doughnuts break. I merely grabbed my cup of bad black coffee and headed out to my car to grab my acoustic guitar.

I came back in, pulling my leather jacket close to my body, due to the freezing cold rain that was more slush than snow, if anything.

One more reason why I applied to University of California at Berkeley. It was warm.

I merely looked over at Ryan and Dylan, who were sitting in their chairs, drinking their coffee.

I walked over and sat down in my chair and strummed a few chords to a new song we were writing.

"So, what do you think of new girl?" Ryan asked, leaning back in his chair, smirk prominent on his face. Dylan just gave him a knowing look.

It's obnoxious being the only heterosexual male in your own band.

"You guys are _not_ trying to fix me up with anyone. It's definitely not going to happen."

They just exchanged another knowing look, as if to say '_Denial._' I just rolled my eyes and glared at them.

"Look, I already met her at my Aunt Sam's office a few nights ago when I came in to get my prescription and head back home, okay? She was a bit of a bitch to me, so I'm just going to try and stay away. Girls have caused me nothing but trouble lately."

Dylan just shook his head and smiled cheekily, "Well, we didn't like Amanda either, for the record."

I rolled my eyes again, "And I really, really, _really_ don't want you two attempting to set me up, _okay._"

They just nodded, apparently taking my lack of a sex life very serious for once. I just yawned and set my guitar down, because Michael was beginning his lecture.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Author's Note: Hi guys, thanks so much for giving me feedback and reviewing and telling me what you think. I love to hear it, really, I do. And, even if people do steal ideas, I guess it's a form of flattery. -shrug- Um, anyway. Probably my last update until Sunday/Mondayish. I'm seeing Harry Potter tomorrow, yay. :)


	6. Watermark

_"I count to three and grin.  
You smile and let me in.  
We sit and watch the wall you painted purple.  
Speech will spill on space.  
Our little cups of grace.  
But pauses rattle on about the way that you cut the snow-fence,  
braved the blood, the metal of those hearts that you always end up pressing your tongue to.  
How your body still remembers things you told it to forget."_ – The Weakerthans 

- - - - - - - - - - -

Channel Surfing: the favorite Friday night pastime for teenagers who don't have:

a)a date

b)someone to hang out with, or

c)something generally pertinent to do.

I yawned slightly and changed the channel from some basketball game to some rerun of _Friends_, then to one of those crappy Lifetime movies that most girls bawl over after their jock boyfriend breaks up with them for some other girl, all while stuffing Ben and Jerry's in their mouth like no tomorrow. I don't even want to _think_ of ice cream right now.

I yawned and stretched, pulling a blanket closer over my body for warmth. Even in January, Charlie became worse than a woman hitting menopause, keeping the house a nice for outside, cold for inside, seventy-five degrees. I just sighed and pulled the blanket closer and pulled my knees to my chest as a form of body warmth.

Charlie sat in his favorite armchair and watched me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for me to become the walking dead again. I just rolled my eyes and settle on a comedy special on HBO.

"I have a meeting tomorrow night with some of the lawyers and judges on this murder case, so you'll be staying with Doctor Yorke. She has a nephew around your age, anyway."

My eyes quickly snapped to him, and if I could spit fire, I probably would.

"So you hired a babysitter for me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level, even though I wanted to scream at him.

He just looked at the TV for awhile, "Not exactly."

I just rolled my eyes and sighed, throwing the remote in his direction and storming upstairs to my room, making sure to lock the door.

As soon as I got up there, I flopped down on my bed and let out a frustrated scream. This was just getting ridiculous. I wasn't eight years old anymore. And it wasn't like I was going to go wandering off into the woods by myself after the bear maulings that had been going on.

I flipped over and sighed, cursing Charlie to the end of existence for making me go over to the shrink's place so her nephew could _baby-sit_ me. Ridiculous.

I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest and yawned again.

For some reason, a familiar melody found its way into my head. I hadn't listened to music in god knows how long. After my little escapade with Jessica I hadn't really wanted to do much, or see anyone. I had went to La Push and made a visit to see Jacob and Billy Black, but it still didn't really help afterwards.

But for some reason, the song came through. It was an old song one of my few friends in Phoenix liked. For the life of me, I couldn't remember the name it. She put it on practically every mix cd she gave me because, "It's a last resort thing. Plus, you have to admit, it's a really good song."

I sighed indifferently and climbed under the flannel sheets, turned over and pulled my knees to my chest again and focused on the wall.

Distraction is a noun. The definition of it is: the act or state of being distracted.

See: the wall.

See: the wood floors.

I yawned once more and stretched, turning over and closing my eyes, hoping not to have yet another nightmare tonight. If I was going to have a babysitter tomorrow, then I needed all my energy and some way, shape or form of a thought process to survive.

- - - - - - - - - -

**Author's Note:** Hi guys, sorry it's super short. For the record, the next chapter will be super long and full of amazingness, and Johnny Depp. And I know everyone loves Johnny Depp, right? Um, anyway. Sorry it took so long to post. I was goig to do it first thing this morning, but I kinda forgot. So, here it is. Also, how would you guys feel about me putting playlists up for this story and _Watch Your Own Image_? Yes? No? Maybe so:)


	7. For The Girl

_"Aw she said she said no, no, no, no  
Then again yes why don't you kill me  
He asked him why you messed up right there  
Sweetheart you know that don't thrill me  
Said I would've been there for if you had been a little bit nicer  
I was dead by Sunday half dead scared just trying to please her"_ – The Fratellis

- - - - - - - - -

Their house was a modest wood two story, Victorian style… thing. I sat in the passenger seat of the cruiser, knees pulled to my chest and arms wrapped tightly over them. I just glared over at Charlie, whose eyes were focused on the garage door, lights poking out of it and causing shadows on the concrete driveway. I looked at the bright green numbers on the digital car clock, which read 5:45.

"I can't _believe_ you're making me do this." I said through gritted teeth and opened the passenger door, then pulled the hood of my jacket over my head so my hair wouldn't get wet, which was totally a Jessica-Lauren thing to do, but I really didn't care.

"Love you, Bells!" Charlie called from the car, while I just rolled my eyes and scoffed, quickly jogging up the three steps onto Doctor Yorke's porch. I quickly pulled the hood of my jacket off my head and ran a hand through my bangs. I walked briskly to the door and knocked three times.

The person who opened the door surprised the living hell out of me. Tan, curly dark brown hair, black Strokes t-shirt, old corduroy pants… Andrew Kingston.

As soon as he saw me, he slammed the door.

"Aunt Sam!" he yelled, obviously angry, and fairly loud because I could hear it over the rain, "Why the _hell_ is one of your patients here?!"

I heard the distinct sigh of Doctor Yorke, who opened the door. She smiled and gestured to me to come in, putting her hand on my shoulder and giving me a light shove into the living room, where Andrew stood by a large grandfather clock, fuming.

Doctor Yorke sent him a glare that would have scared anyone, "_Be. Nice._" she warned, walking back towards the kitchen. He just rolled his eyes and stomped off towards the stairs, while a little girl in multicolor tights and dress overalls bounded down them, Barbie doll in hand. She looked expectantly at me and beamed.

"Are you Bella?" she asked nervously. I just smiled slightly and nodded.

"The one and only, who might you be?"

"I'm Alexa. You and Andrew get to baby-sit me tonight."

I smiled slightly and bent down to her level, "That's pretty cool. Who's your friend?"

She examined the Barbie for a second, "Oh, her?" she asked, gesturing to the Barbie dressed in extremely mismatched clothes.

I nodded and smiled, hoping it looked assuring.

"This is Maria Angelina Fiona, and she's a princess." the girl said with a triumphant smile. I resisted a light laugh.

"Oh really? What country does she rule?"

The tiny blonde girl frowned slightly and wrinkled her nose, "Bulgaria. She's going to get married to Victor Krum because he's an awesome Quidditch player."

_Now_ I stifled my laughter with my hand and composed myself quickly, "Can you show me her palace, by any chance?" I asked with a smile.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

About a half hour later, as Alexa was dressing Maria Angelina Fiona in a rather vibrant red parka, a pair of purple pants, and a lime green shirt, along with two mismatched heels. I merely observed the characters and attempted not to laugh whenever Victor Krum made his appearance, usually asking for Princess Maria Angelina Fiona's hand in marriage.

Which, oddly enough, she always denied. So much for getting married to poor Victor Krum.

There was a knock on the side of the door, which caused me to turn my head towards the sound and cock an eyebrow.

Andrew stood there, arms crossed over his chest. "Lexi, dinner's in five, your mom made Mac and Cheese. After that, she and your dad are leaving for that meeting, allright? So c'mon down stairs and wash up, allright?"

She frowned and pulled the Princess's parka over her head, "But _Andrew"_ she whined, making his name come out like _An-droooo_, "Bella and me just started playing with the Princess, and she was really close to accepting Victor Krum's marriage proposal."

Andrew rolled his eyes, walking towards the girl, "The princess is _never_ going to accept Krum's proposal, Lexi, and you know that. She secretly loves Prince Raul." he said, scooping her up in his arms and blowing a raspberry on her neck. She giggled and swatted at him playfully, "_Andrew,_" she grumbled again, his name coming out like _An-droooo_ again, "You ruined the Princess's secret for _Bella_" she groaned, annoyed, pronouncing my name like _Bell-lah_.

He just sighed and rolled his eyes, "Soo-rry."

I smiled and stood up, "What happened? I didn't hear anything you just said."

Alexa stuck her tongue out at Andrew and squirmed out of his grasp and hopped on to the ground, taking my hand and leading me down the stairs.

It was extremely hard to resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

An hour or so after our dinner and dishes escapade, which involved Alexa trying to help, and a mass amount of soap bubbles (courtesy of Dawn antibacterial dish washing soap) and a struggle to get the tiny ten year old to take a bath, which is damn near impossible.

I sighed and looked down at my soaking wet t-shirt and frowned, "Well," I said indifferently, looking at Andrew, who merely rolled his eyes.

"I have something that fits you. It may be a little baggy, but whatever." He said grudgingly, and got headed down the hall to what I guessed was his room.

Meanwhile, Alexa hopped out of her room in a purple nightgown and grabbed my hand and dragged me downstairs.

"Can I watch a movie?" she asked, scrambling toward a cabinet filled with movies.

I shrugged, "Go ahead and pick one."

She beamed and grabbed Mulan from the shelf and popped it in, while I flopped back on the Yorke's leather couch.

After a few minutes and the opening credits, Andrew walked in wearing an old Dashboard Confessional t-shirt. I rolled my eyes.

He tossed an old brown Beatles shirt at me and pointed to the hallway bathroom, still glaring. I rolled my eyes again and trudged off towards the bathroom.

I flipped the light on and yanked my red shirt off and replaced it with the brown one quickly. He was right, it was a little baggy, but it fit okay. I was impressed. He was tiny, like me. Even more impressive. I knew he was a cokehead, but I didn't know he was that tiny.

I yawned and walked back into the living room, where Andrew looked over at me and made a distinct 'Shhh!' noise, and put his finger to his lips and pointed towards the couch, where Alexa was fast asleep.

I checked my watch, noting that it was around nine.

He carefully picked her up and walked past me, then up the stairs. I, of course, followed suit up the stairs to her room, where the Princess' palace was set up, well, I guess you could call it Bulgaria.

Andrew put her in bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin, then set a purple bear next to her and kissed her forehead.

And, after that, he left. Simple as that. He walked out of the room and down the stairs, then he walked over to the DVD player and pulled Mulan out.

"I'm watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." he said indifferently, and pulled a movie from the cabinet, "It has Johnny Depp in it. All girls like Johnny Depp, right?"

I just shrugged, "I guess so. What's it about?"

He smiled cynically, "Drugs. And Las Vegas. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't."

I just rolled my eyes and flopped back down on the couch.

_Stupid Dashboard Confessional shirt wearing ex-cokehead._

**PLAYLIST:** _Emma_ by Alkaline Trio, _Regression_ by Catch 22, _A Jack Of All Trades_ by Hot Water Music, _Failing, Flailing_ by Streetlight Manifesto, _Steady, As She Goes_ by The Raconteurs, _Bled White_ by Elliott Smith, _Fences_ by Paramore, _Say You'll Be There_ by The Spice Girls. (Yes, those Spice Girls.) And _I'll make A Man Out Of You_ from Mulan/Youtube.

**AUTHOR NOTE: **Sorry it took me so long, guys. I finished Harry Potter yesterday night around one in the morning, and I was at the midnight party friday. So, anyway, it's long. I have to work all next week so updates may not be as fluent as usual. Anyway, feedback is mucho appreciated.


	8. Miss Misery

_"Crooked spin can't come to rest  
I'm damaged bad at best  
She'll decide what she wants  
I'll probably be the last to know  
No one says until it shows and you see how it is  
They want you or they don't"_ –Elliott Smith

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**ANDREW.**

Okay, _Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_ in the dark with Group Therapy Girl who hates me?

That just adds to the amount of shitty ideas I've had in my entire life. Call me the King of Bad Ideas. Those are all I seem to come up with.

See, with all its odd-angles, bright colors, and acid trips, Fear and Loathing wasn't the world's best idea. Seeing as I honestly didn't think _The Lost Boys_ or _Requiem for a Dream_ were really good ideas. Especially not _Requiem for a Dream_. Educational, maybe, but more likely to make her cry. It made Dylan and Ryan cry, which was possibly the most depressing scene I've ever seen in my entire life. Or maybe it was just the fact that Jared Leto got part of his arm chopped off.

I watched her face from the loveseat I was sprawled across from time to time. I think she was confused, if anything. I just concentrated hard on the movie, so the situation wouldn't get more awkward than it already was.

I yawned slightly and checked my watch. Apparently this was an intense meeting. I think it's about all those murders that have been going on. Well, the newspaper called it "Bear Maulings" but after the second or third one, they had a feeling it wasn't a bear anymore. At least, that's what Aunt Sam told me.

I sighed indifferently and watched Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo drive away from the Sunset Strip and the ending theme music of _Viva Las Vegas_ by the Dead Kennedys play from the speakers. I looked over at Group Therapy Girl and nodded, standing and stretching, then walking over to the wall to flip the light switch on.

She blinked a few times and looked over at me, "That was a really strange movie."

I just shrugged and flopped back on to the loveseat, "The first time it always is. But hey, Johnny Depp. As I said, all girls love Johnny Depp. Hell, all gay men love Johnny Depp."

She just wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them close to her chest. I just frowned and stretched, which caused my neck and back to crack. I scowled and sat up, shaking my head.

"So, I have a question for you," I started, locking eyes with Miss 'knees-to-chest-I'm-just-so-shy'.

She just cocked her head at me, which I assumed meant, "Shoot."

I crossed my arms over my chest and kept my eyes locked on her face, and tried to seem as calm as humanly possible, "Could you possibly tell me what the _hell_ is your problem with me? I haven't done a damn thing to you, and frankly, I'm rather confused."

She frowned slightly and pulled her knees closer to her chest, then made a shrugging motion.

I just arched an eyebrow "Shrugging isn't an answer" I said through gritted teeth.

She sighed, "Look, I'm sorry for being a bitch for you that day. I didn't want to be there, and no offence to your aunt, but I hate shrinks. I don't want to be analyzed, or studied, or figured out, or whatever. I just want to go on with my life."

I half-rolled my eyes "So, you want to wallow in your misery?" I asked, turning to look at her.

She just glared at me, "No. Who said I was wallowing?"

I shrugged, "I can tell. I used to wallow quite a bit."

She just rolled her eyes "Like you'd know what my problem is."

I arched an eyebrow "Try me. Aunt Sam said you shouldn't be as messed up as you are, though. Something about a boyfriend. I knew him, kinda, he was in my gym class. Never talked. Just kinda… glared. He was a little off. Did he hit you, or something?"

She glared at me now, like, a full-on hateful glare, "_No._ He wouldn't lay a finger on me."

"Soo-rry, I was just curious. You show the signs of an abuse victim, though. Believe me, I know my abuse victims."

She just glared again, then looked down at her shoes. "He left me. Just… up and left. And told me he didn't love me anymore."

I rolled my eyes, "Teenage love is overrated."

She glared again, "You're such a sensitive person."

I scoffed, "I lost my sensitivity when I started doing cocaine. It's long gone now. Along with my sinuses."

Our eyes met in a glaring contest. After a few minutes, I let out a light laugh and shook my head.

"Okay, you win. I get it; I'm just another person on your shit list. Whatever. We don't have to be friends. I just thought I could help you" I said, standing up and walking past the kitchen to the garage, where my solitude was located in the form of an old dilapidated army green couch and an acoustic guitar.

About five chords into _(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction_ by The Rolling Stones, she came in and sat by me, watching me play. I stopped halfway through and looked at her. She just stared at her feet again.

"You're not on my shit list." she said quietly.

I looked over at her and smiled slightly, "Good. I'm glad. Now that we've got that over with, what can we do to fix you? That's the real question. I know you're tiny. Believe me, I used to be about your size before I OD'ed. That's why that shirt fits you."

"Plus, food is a good thing. If your goal is to fast, or something, just go vegetarian, or something. But being as skinny as you are isn't healthy. Trust me, I know."

She just nodded and leaned against the couch.

I just fumbled for the chords to a song I hadn't heard in months, but remembered the words clearly.

After I found the right chords for the song, I strummed aimlessly, attempting to perfect it. Finally, during my pause, which had to be for a beat, she looked over at me and I met her glance with a raise of my eyebrows.

"I trust you." she said with a small smile.

I smiled and nodded, "Well," I said, attempting to sound optimistic, "That's the first step."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**PLAYLIST:** _Don't Preach to Me_ by the Street Dogs; _Your Gravest Words_ by the Lawrence Arms; _Waltz #1_ by Elliott Smith; _Safe and Sound_ by Azure Ray, _Say Yes_ by Elliott Smith, _Liar(It Takes One To Know One_) by Taking Back Sunday.

**BACKGROUND NOISE:** _Celebrity_ by NSYNC. (The Whole Album) and _Ladies Choice_ from the new Hairspray Soundtrack (If you don't like that song then there's something horribly wrong with you.)

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Oh man, guys. I'm sososo sorry that I haven't updated in a week. I just haven't been in the mood to write. Not because of writers block, or anything, just because I didn't feel like it. WYOI may be out later tonight, if I decide to pull a two in the morning writing angstravaganza. I wouldn't count on it, though. Also, don't expect too much as far as updates go this week. I've got some last-minute things to do before I go to Atlanta for Back-to-School shopping/Wedding Dress shopping. Not that I'm looking forward to the dress part. I **_highly_ **doubt there will be updates during the week of August 6th-August 11th. Other than that, I'll try and have the 8th chapter out tomorrow, but I have a date with some Asian food, the movie 'Hairspray, and a friend of mine. :)


	9. The Sound of Settling

_"I've got a hunger  
Twisting my stomach into knots  
That my tongue was tied off  
My brain's repeating  
"If you've got an impulse let it out"  
But they never make it past my mouth"_ – Death Cab for Cutie

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I could always find him by looking for that black leather jacket. And the two white tentacles hanging from his ears that reached down to the back pocket of his jeans. And he was usually accompanied by Dylan and Ryan, his two flamboyantly gay, tight pants wearing best friends, partners in crime, or accomplices. It depended on the day.

I quickly jogged down the stretch of hallway towards the three, and slowing right before I ran into Ryan, who smiled and slung an arm around my shoulders. For a kid with anger problems, he was a really sweet guy.

It had been a month, and things were a little better. At least, it was better than hanging out with Jessica and Mike.

"So, how's my Bella today?" he asked, smiling at me.

I just shrugged, "Pretty good, and how's my Ryan today?"

He smiled, "At the moment, I'm amazing." He paused slightly and looked down at me, "Are you doing anything pertinent next period?"

I shook my head, "its art. Enough said."

He mused the idea and nodded, "Allright, well, would you like to accompany us to Port Angeles to pick up a specific soundtrack that involves Snakes and Planes, along with an album by very good looking Spanish man named Gabe Saporta, and his band Cobra Starship?"

I just shrugged and smiled, "Yeah, I'll go get my truck."

Andrew looked down at me and gave me a skeptical look, then shook his curly hair, "No way, you'll blow our cover. You're riding with me."

Dylan looked over at Ryan and they gave eachother secret smirks, causing Andrew and I to shove them. "We're not dating." he hissed, shaking his head again and shoving the door open with a click.

0000000000

He looked up at the sky, which was a light gray color with lots of cloud cover.

He smiled and looked over at me, "Ready?"

I shrugged, "Ready as I'll ever be. Are you a crazy driver?"

He just frowned, "I obey all traffic laws. No tickets whatsoever, Chief."

I smiled; pleased with the fact that I was riding with one of the male species who obeyed speed laws, for once.

He pushed a button on his key ring, which caused a click to come from an older dark blue Mercedes-Benz station wagon.

"Your chariot awaits m'lady." He said, smirking and opening the passenger door. I leaned on the top of the door and met his eyes.

"You are so full of shit." I said with a straight face, which caused him to laugh and gesture towards the front seat.

I shrugged and plopped down into the dark leather seat, which was freezing. I pulled my jacket closer to my body and fastened my seatbelt. Andrew got in the drivers side and put his key in the ignition, causing the old car to let out a groan of protest and then made a loud rumbling sound, which I guessed signaled the start.

He backed out and began following a newer looking VW Jetta.

"Wait, so, what's Ryan's dad do?"

Andrew just shrugged, "No clue. They're not rolling in it, but that was Ryan's graduation present. He got into, hell… where was it? Georgia Tech? It was his dad's alma mater. So, hence the graduation present. Nice, eh?"

I shrugged, "Yep. Do you think I'll get a car for a graduation present?"

He looked down at the radio, fiddling with his iPod for a second at the stop light and stifled a laugh, "Doubtful, highly doubtful. I doubt I will, either. But hey, my dad had this piece of crap since the 1980's. It still works pretty well. Diesel's super expensive, though. That's the only downside of it. The plus is, this baby's a tank. It'd probably kill anything it hits in a head-on, or a rear-ender. So, I guess I understand why he wants me to keep it. Plus," he said, turning onto the interstate, "He's got a brand new Infiniti anyway."

I frowned slightly, "Wow, nice. What's he do?"

He shrugged, "Judge. One of those high-end ones. He deals with people like Paris Hilton and shit. It's kind of an interesting job."

I just nodded and kept my eyes on the long stretch of road, and the Jetta where Ryan and Dylan were most likely plotting to get Andrew some way, shape, or form of a girlfriend.

I looked over at the speedometer, which was on seventy-five miles per hour. Normal. Perfect. I sighed and leaned back, ready for the long forty-five minute drive.

Andrew tapped his steering wheel to the beat of the song coming out of the speakers of his car and sang along with the lead singer of the band, who had an obvious British accent. It was quite the sight, I must admit.

I just rolled my eyes and tapped my foot to the beat, then looked behind us into the backseat and wrinkled my nose in disgust, "Ew, Andrew."

He glanced over at me and arched an eyebrow, "Hmm?"

I looked down at the floor of the backseat, which was littered with old soda cans, a few Capri-Suns, and numerous different papers, essays, but even more so, CD's. There had to be at least a hundred or so just lying around in plastic cases. There were a few fake leather cases lying around the back, along with his backpack.

"You're gross." I said with a frown, and then I went back to looking out the windshield.

He kept his eyes on the road. "Why am I gross?"

I laughed a little, "Look at the back of your car. It's a disaster."

He snorted, "I can't really look right now, sorry. I hate driving on the interstate. But hey, if you clean it out for me this weekend I'll buy you the CD of your choice."

I snickered, "What if I want the new Lindsay Lohan CD?"

He grimaced and shook his head, "I think I might have to disown you. But I'd probably buy it for you if you were going to clean out my car. It hasn't been cleaned in ages anyway."

I sighed, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'm doing it as a favor to anyone who your car graces it's er, uh, beastly presence with. And for any girlfriends you may end up with for the rest of the year."

He barked out a laugh at my statement, "Girlfriends?" he sputtered out through his laughter. I rolled my eyes.

"Yep, Kingston, a girlfriend. You know, that one you try and impress and buy dinner for, that just so happens to be a girl that you like?"

He continued laughing, almost hysterically. "In Forks?" he asked through yet another fit of laughter.

I just nodded, "Anywhere, back in California, in Port Angeles, just… anyone."

He shook his head, finally composed, "Nope. There's no such girl. I dated a girl named Amanda last year, maybe you knew her. I dunno. She and I got along for… our own reasons, per se."

"Coke?" I asked, slightly curious.

He just nodded and turned off the interstate at the exit for Port Angeles. After that, it got awkward.

Like, way awkward. Andrew didn't like talking about his addiction at all.

"This has now officially turned into an awkward silence, which I've come to handle exceptionally well. So go ahead and turn the music up, please."

He cracked a smile and turned the volume on the newer-looking radio up, not saying a word as Death Cab for Cutie's "The Sound of Settling" blare out of the speakers.

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**PLAYLIST:**_ The Ballad of Big Poppa and Diamond Girl _by Cobra Starship; _Between The Bars_ by Elliott Smith; _Sunshine Highway_ by the Dropkick Murphys; _Shores of California_ by The Dresden Dolls, my _'Jungle Adventure'_ playlist (Ask me for it if you really want it.); and _The Sound of Settling_ by Death Cab For Cutie.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Allright, last update before I leave for Hotlanta. Or maybe not. I dunno. Anyway, I don't have much to say besides the fact that everyone should go see Hairspray. Because of Zac Efron's power slides and John Travolta in a salsa dress. So, while I'm hotlanta-ing, you can probably enjoy this. I may get time to update in Atlanta, but I highly doubt it. My mom is keeping me pretty busy. We're going college hunting/aquarium-ing/zoo-ing/shopping. That sort of deal. And, um, feedback is wonderful, and not just 'hi, update soon.' I like that too, but updates have been rather slow lately. So, Feedback?


	10. We Laugh At Danger & Break All The Rules

_"And what we were doing  
was the only thing that mattered  
and how good it felt  
to kill the memory of nights spent  
holding your shirt for the smell"_ – Against Me!

000000

The rain pelted the windshield aimlessly, almost in a droning tone. Almost like music.

"Did he say 'Spanish Eyes' or 'Spanish Ass'?" Andrew asked, hands clenched on the steering wheel due to the slick roads.

I sighed, "He said 'Spanish Ass.' If I have to hear this song one more time, I'm strangling you Bart Simpson style."

He gave me a swift sideways glance and grumbled an obscenity or two, then turned the blinker on to head down the road to the Victorian style house. Finally, he pulled into the driveway, killing the engine, the music still playing. I was amazed the car could even do that.

He looked over at me and then out the windshield, "Well, we can either sit and waste gas, which is almost three bucks a gallon, or we can make a run for the porch."

I just pulled my hood over my head and exhaled, "Well, you're the one with the leather jacket." I said indifferently and shoved my hands into the hoodie pocket. It was plain, dark blue, and had large lettering that said 'SEATTLE ZOO Seattle, WA' on it.

It was one of Andrew and I's numerous trips over the past three weeks, which always ended up sitting on the hood of his car in this very driveway and talking about life. Except when it was raining, like now. I quickly opened the car door and slammed it, dashing towards the white painted porch.

I made it. Without tripping. Or falling. Or anything. I smiled triumphantly as I stepped into the covered porch and collapsed onto the equally white porch swing, immediately took out my cell phone and checked the time.

Finally, after a good two minutes of waiting, he showed up on the porch, shaking out his leather jacket. I just laughed loudly, the sound of it echoing throughout the porch walls.

"Maybe you'll get a new one for Graduation?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

He just gave me a look and I held my hands up, then shook my head.

"Tengo un llave?" I asked quietly, gesturing to the door.

He pulled his key clasp off the belt loop of his jeans and began slowly picking through them, finding the house one, mumbling "house key" a few times over and over again until he found the right one.

I just shook my head and walked in, only to find Alexa watching an old episode Winnie the Pooh, the good ones.

"Hey kiddo," I said, yanking my hoodie off and tossing it on the love seat couch and plopping down next to her on the light tan carpet. Andrew had stayed outside for a little longer, probably setting his precious jacket on the porch swing to dry, if it ever became sunny here.

Finally, after a few minutes, he walked in, absolutely soaking.

"Hey guys," he said, standing in front of Alexa and I, then began shaking his mess of wet curly hair at Alexa and I like some sort of dog.

She giggled hysterically and swatted at him, while I just wrinkled my nose.

"You're gross, Kingston."

"You're car-less, Swan, so I suggest you be nice unless you want to walk home."

0000000000

Later that night, I was preoccupied with my Calculus homework that I had been putting off for the entire weekend, and which Andrew, Ryan, and Dylan had already done. So naturally, band practice was in full swing.

I just nodded my head to the beat of the Clash song they were covering and worked on checking over all my work

"You guys should do Panic! At The Disco covers," I yelled to Andrew, causing him to roll his eyes and glare, mid-chord.

"Why? You hate them as much as I do. I mean, unless you want to see me gel my hair all scene-like and start wearing your clothes."

I snorted and closed my Calculus book and picked up my copy of _Naked Lunch_ that we were reading for English. You have _no_ idea how happy I was that we weren't doing romance novels. I was much more content with William S. Burroughs and Junkies than I was with Shakespeare and Othello/Desdemona.

Then, he did it. He began fumbling for the chords of a song by _Nirvana_. He _knew_ I hated Nirvana. Because _he_ liked Nirvana. And I never wanted to hear _Radio Friendly Unit Shifter_ again, because it was one of _his_ favorite songs. I just glared over my copy of Naked Lunch.

I glowered at him and put the book on my lap, crossed my arms over my chest and began packing my stuff up.

_Fine._ _I'll walk home._

000

Around 12:36 that night I got a phone call.

He sighed, "I'm sorry."

I smirked smugly in the dark.

Bella: 1.

Andrew: 0.

He was always the type to apologize first.

00000

**PLAYLIST:** _The Ballad of Big Poppa and Diamond Girl_ by Cobra Starship; _New Slang_ by the Shins; _Every You Every Me_ by Placebo; _Classifieds_ by the Academy Is…; _Don't Wake Me Up/Wine Red_ by the Hush Sound; _The Guns of Brixton_ by the Clash; _Nice Guys Finish Last_ by Green Day (Old school Green Day, not the new 'American Idiot' album. That one sucked.); _Diamonds and Guns_ by The Transplants.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Update number one out of three. Sorry I never updated once I got back from Hotlanta. Hopefully this makes up for it. :)

Feedback?


	11. Timberwolves At New Jersey

_"Stop it, come on  
you know I can't help it  
I got the mic  
and you got the mosh pit  
what will it take  
to make you admit that you were wrong?  
Was his demise so carefully constructed?  
Well let's just say I got what I wanted  
'cause in the end it's always the same" _– Taking Back Sunday

000000

"Ohmigod." Jessica Stanley said to Lauren Mallory, now completely ignoring the food on her tray.

"Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod."

"What, Jess?" she asked, and flipped her short hair then a sip of her coke, glancing towards the two kids getting their food from the lunch line.

"They're like, I don't know, Ellie and Craig!"

Lauren cocked an eyebrow and gave Jessica a funny look.

"No, no. Nobody we know, but those kids, you know, from Degrassi! You know, Craig and Ellie! They're like… the rock power couple. Or something. I don't know! But they're cute. And Stuff."

Lauren's mouth formed a little 'O' as the two watched Andrew Kingston and Bella Swan exit the doors with their lunches. They were obviously skipping the rest of the day. She shook her head and smiled slightly. The whole couple thing was news to her. She didn't know ex-drug addicts were Bella Swan's style. At least Bella was gone.

Jessica hadn't seen much of Bella at all ever since they had gone to the movies. Ever since then she had been hanging out with Andrew Kingston. And it was almost spring break. Not that she cared; she now had Mike's full attention.

Because apparently hanging out with the kid who hit Mike in the face with a basketball, giving him a rather large bruise that swelled quite a bit junior year wasn't the best idea. At least it got Mike off her back.

000000

The trunk of the deep blue station wagon was often a common lunch hang out for the 'rock power couple.' Bella Swan took a bite of her apple and stretched, while Andrew wrinkled his nose at the mystery meat on his paper plate and opted to take a drink of his orange soda instead.

"So," he said with a smirk, "Did you hear what Jessica Stanley called us?"

Bella arched an eyebrow, "Does she think I'm having your babies again?"

Andrew laughed and shook his head, attempting to swallow his orange soda but failing miserably. "You have to admit," he said though his laughter, "We'd make pretty cute babies."

She just shrugged and took a drink of her orange soda. It was something she had acquired a taste for ever since she started hanging out with Andrew. He lived off the stuff.

"I guess we would. But still, that doesn't mean I'd actually want to have your babies. So, other than that, how was your Chemistry test, sir?"

Andrew shrugged and opened his backpack, pulling out a long test with a '95' written on it. Bella smiled and looked over.

"Nice."

He took a drink or his orange soda and smiled, "Mhm. I'm so Berkeley bound. And, for the record, plenty of girls would love to have my babies."

She just smiled and rooted through her own backpack, pulling a folder out, "Well, I have a surprise for you. I remembered you mentioned Berkeley the first night in group, and I was interested. So, being the curious girl I am, I checked it out, and applied for late admission in February."

He just nodded as she opened the folder, smiling, "Well, surprise," she said, pulling out the acceptance letter. "You won't be alone at Berkeley."

His eyes widened and he enveloped her into a tight hug. "Yes! Oh man, yes! You and me will take Berkeley by storm, Belle. Seriously! It'll be awesome."

She nodded and took a bite of her wrap, perfectly satisfied, "So, back to normal conversation, what are you doing for Spring Break?"

"Well, I'm going to San Francisco with my parents like I do every spring break, so I'll be MIA for about five or six days. But I'll have my cell on, and you have Jacob Black to hang out with. And you can do that whole… motorcycle…. thing. That you guys do. I think your coordination, or lack thereof, has improved slightly since you've been learning how to ride those. And since Dylan got you behind the drum set a little."

"So, anyway, back to the original topic. What did Jessica say about us?"

He shrugged and took a bite of the mystery meat, "It's not important." He said, the words coming out funny. She just rolled her eyes.

"Swallow. Talking with your mouth full is gross."

Andrew did as told and swallowed, and then took a drink of his orange soda.

"I said, '_It's Not Important_,' that's all. Is tonight you and Jacob's monster garage night?"

She shook her head and crumpled the bag that her wrap came in and tossed it beside the car, immediately looking down at her old blue converse all-stars.

"What's the deal, has he not been talking to you, or something?"

She shrugged simply and leaned against the frame of the car, curling into a little ball like always, "He hasn't talked to me since we saw a movie the weekend before last. Some Zombie one."

Andrew arched an eyebrow, "You're a fan of Zombie movies? The last time we tried to watch 28 Days Later you ended up hiding your face behind a pillow and in the crook of my arm the whole time."

She merely grabbed an empty soda can and launched it toward his head, "Not funny."

"Well, I thought it was. I wonder why he's ignoring you, and stuff. That's just strange. Maybe he likes you or something. Broken any hearts lately, Bella?" he asked with a teasing smirk.

She just shook her head, "I don't want a relationship. At all. Ever."

He rolled his eyes, "That's unrealistic. You'll get over Edwin–"

"_Edward._"

"Fine, fine. You'll get over _Edward_ eventually. And then you'll find someone else. Maybe a guy as nice as Jake. I'd totally be chill with you guys dating, for the record. I think it would be cute."

She cocked an eyebrow, "No. No dating. No nothing. I just want friends. Wait, hey. Why haven't you come on to me yet?"

Andrew laughed and tossed his empty soda can behind him. "Oh, Bella. Like Jessica said, we're like Ellie and Craig from Degrassi. Nothing's gonna happen there, even if one of us wants it. Because, you know, nothing ever happened with Ellie and Craig. He started dating Manny the skank again."

She cocked an eyebrow, "You actually watch _Degrassi_? That's pathetic."

Andrew shrugged, "Well, I'm not the one who's _still_ not over my douchebag doctor's son ex-boyfriend, even though he was a scumbag."

She stuck her tongue out, due to lack of a better insult.

Andrew smirked, "See? Yeah. I win this argument. Get in; we're going to the park."

000000

**PLAYLIST:** _Timberwolves at New Jersey_ by Taking Back Sunday; _That Girl (Will Never Be Mine)_ by NSYNC.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Update two out of three. Another reason for the intense amount of updates is because my dad's wedding is this weekend, and I start school next wednesday. And Junior year hates me big time. I'm taking two AP classes (English and U.S. History) and an Honors class (Spanish.) so, basically, I won't have much time for... anything.

Anyway, Enjoy. :)


	12. Skeptics and True Believers

_"Would you believe me if I said I didn't need you,  
'cause I wouldn't believe you if you said the same to me.  
And near death, last breath, and barely hanging on.  
Would you believe me if I said I didn't need you?"_ – The Academy Is…

00

_Bella- _

_Wow, I can't believe you turned down my offer to come to San Francisco! You're insane, I swear. (As in, you're really missing out.)Regardless of that, you'd love it here. The whole music scene and vibe is fantastic! I still can't believe you turned it down. My parents were looking forward to meeting you. I don't know whether that's a good thing or not. But still, you're missed! I ate at this great Asian restaurant that could give Mai's in Port Angeles a run for their money. _

_I understand you wanted to stay, though. You and Jacob had to patch things up anyway, right? Did you finally talk to him and figure out what was up? I hope so. You were so bummed. It made me sad. Anyway, I'll text you and call you whenever I can. I'm guessing you're spending the majority of your time in La Push/First Beach. I hope you're having fun & getting a tan. (hahah, right, like that'll ever happen.) _

_3_

_Andrew._

00

I stared at the e-mail and sighed flatly. It had been a long two days. Filled with Werewolves, vampires, ugh. I thought the whole 'Bella hangs out with supernatural creatures' thing was over. Apparently not. Now Jake the werewolf and company were on VictoriaWatch constantly, I was stuck with Emily, Sam's girlfriend. And, even though she was nice, I'm not enough of a masochist to stick around and watch she and Sam be all… loving, and whatnot. It puts romance novels to shame.

One of Andrew's mixes echoed throughout my room via my stereo. I mouthed the words to the song that was playing and tapped my fingers on my tiny desk, deciding what to write him back. I finally opted not to and shoved a hoodie over my head and wandered downstairs for a midnight bowl of cereal.

I sat in the kitchen and ate my cereal quietly, listening to the ice maker make ice and the dishwasher clean dishes. It was comforting in its own special way. I sighed and finished off my bowl, dumping it into the sink and washing it out.

And now, maybe, _just maybe_ I could sleep.

00

The next day started out the same as always. Watching Emily clean the house, cook, wash dishes, and chatter about the boys. I would always offer my help, but she would usually decline.

Finally, I decided I'd go for a walk on the beach.

Bad Idea #768547693.

And then I saw the cliffs that the boys had been jumping off of months before, and got an idea.

Bad Idea #768547694.

And Jake had always promised me that we would go cliff diving, true?

Right.

So, why not now? It didn't look that high, and I was never afraid of heights.

It's good to be spontaneous every once in awhile, I think.

Bad Idea #768547695.

You can guess what happened from there.

00

Jake and I clambered into the truck and I quickly turned the music on to stifle the awkward silence. He just sighed and looked over at me, "This totally goes against my rules, but I called Kingston and told him what happened. He said he'd call you later tonight, or to call him when you feel like talking. He said he needed to talk to you about something, too."

I just nodded and sighed, leaning my head against the window and sang quietly along with the song. My breath caught in my throat when Jacob suddenly stopped the car, "Whoa, vampire!" he said to himself, his breath catching in his throat and jumping out of the truck.

_"Phase, or get her out?"_

_"Right, get her out."_

My breath, just like his, caught in mine. I immediately looked up and saw the sleek black Mercedes-Benz in the driveway. Carlisle. For a brief second, I remembered Andrew's words about Benzes being tanks, but absolute shite when it came to gas mileage and repairs.

On impulse, I slid over to the drivers side and looked at him, mumbling a quick 'Sorry' and throwing the old truck into gear again.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!" I heard him yell.

I stifled my light laughter at this and thought to myself: _Dane Cook, that silly bitch._

I finally got to the front door, wheezing slightly, and grabbed the key from under the eave, then quickly unlocked the door.

I saw her before she saw me, and my eyes widened slightly. "Alice?" I questioned, pulling my hoodie, or Jacob's hoodie, closer to me, skeptical.

She just pulled me into an extremely tight hug, "Oh god, Bella. You're alive, but… you jumped… and…"

I shrugged, holding my hands up, almost indifferent, "I'm fine. I can barely talk, but I'm fine."

My eyes locked with hers, and I noted the fact that they were coal black, "Go feed," I said quietly, "I have to get a shower and call Andrew, anyway."

"Andrew?" she questioned, I just waved her off.

"I'll tell you later, okay? Just… take care of yourself. I'll get a shower and stuff."

00

I quickly showered, gargled with salt water to help my throat, and swiftly walked into my room and picked up my phone, scrolling down the contacts list to Andrew's name. I sighed and pushed the send button, letting the phone ring.

I heard a click and a sigh on the other line, then the strum of a guitar, he started at the chorus, then began the second verse of the song.

I sighed, "What'd you do?"

He sighed and on the other line, "Well, I'm holding a small bag in my hand right now, and it contains about a gram of white stuff, and cost me a hundred bucks."

"Cocaine." I said indifferently.

"Yep." He said bluntly, he wasn't denying it.

"Well," I said with a frown, pulling one of his shirts over my head, "At least you didn't jump off a cliff."

"Not one of your defining moments, Swan."

I just rolled my eyes and exhaled. "Not one of yours either, Kingston. Done any lines yet?" I spat bitterly.

He let out a cold laugh, "Hmm, have you died yet? That water must have been pretty cold, and from the height the cliff was, it must have felt like hitting cement. And that was low, even for you."

"Asshole." I muttered quickly and pulled a hoodie over my head.

He just chuckled and strummed his guitar again, "Bitch."

I sighed and leaned on my headboard and listened to the sound of the chords coming from the guitar and the boy, both of which were about a thousand miles away.

"So, the question is–" I started and frowned, flopping back on my bed.

"Who's selfish, and who's sorry?" he finished for me.

00

**PLAYLIST: **Just listen to _Skeptics and True Believers_ by The Academy Is…

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Three out of three. This is my far my favorite chapter in my story. I absolutley love it to death. It makes me quite happy.

And three updates in one day should make you guys pretty happy, too. So, now everyone's happy.I think. Or hope.


	13. This Circle

_"__Take this time to realize  
that you always force a smile  
in the midst of trial  
and everything is always right  
and I think that it's time  
this battle must be won  
but you pushed it aside  
pushed it aside  
pretend that it's gone__"_ – Paramore

00

_"Bella… Edward…"_ She says. And I just shake my head.

"_What_ about Edward?" I hissed as I drank my tea. A new indulgence, among other things, that I never had really taken a liking to until I met Andrew.

"Edward is going to kill himself."

I took a long gulp of my herbal tea and inhaled quickly, dashing up to my room and grabbing a small duffle bag.

Alice was behind me in a second as I was throwing stuff into the bag. She looked frantic, and I was packing my bag as quick as possible as she began to book flights to Volterra.

You know, I really didn't want to do this.

Really. I don't.

But nobody needs to die (and/or off themselves) because I made a stupid decision. I'm not going to let that happen, no matter if it is a vampire ex boyfriend who just so happened to cause the predicament I'm in at the moment.

I sighed and slung my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my cell phone and iPod and jotted down a quick note for Charlie.

We quickly exited the house and hopped in the Mercedes-Benz.

00

Halfway to New York I got a text from Andrew, who said he was on his way to Los Angeles to spend a few days with his parents in their house. He said he hadn't been to his actual home in about a year or so, seeing as he spent the majority of last summer in Rehab.

Alice looked over at the text message and cocked an eyebrow at me. "You never told me about Andrew." she said quietly.

I just sighed, "He's a senior at Forks High. You might have heard of him. Andrew Kingston?"

Alice nodded profusely, "The one who overdosed on cocaine and heroin right around the time that we left for Phoenix." she sent a look of cold indifference in my direction, causing me to pull my hoodie closer to my body, "You sure pick some great friends, Bella." she said sarcastically.

I just smirked, "At least I have friends who won't leave me in the woods."

00

Alice really liked the Porsche. I got that feeling as soon as I saw her in it.

One thing I forgot, though. Vampires are horrible drivers. I really missed Andrew's car and the fact that he obeyed traffic laws.

And me, I was just bummed that I couldn't really see Italy in the way I wanted to. I also had that 'I-really-want-to-be-anywhere-but-here' feeling in my stomach.

My phone buzzed at that moment, and I sighed and flipped open to look at the new text message I got.

_'I just saw Marilyn Manson What an intensely rugged pretty boy… man.'_

I choked out a laugh and then immediately covered my mouth. Alice, unfortunately, noticed and rolled her eyes.

_'Lovely, Andrew. Did you get him to sign a part of your body? And where are you?'_ I texted back and then went to my original position of looking out the window at the Italian landscape, still bummed out that I couldn't see Italy on my own time.

My phone buzzed again and Alice sighed, irritated.

_'I would have gotten him to sign my kidneys. I'm in LA with my parents. Rodeo Drive, if you want specifics. I'll take you this summer before we go to Berkeley, okay?'_

I just smiled and quickly texted him back, then saw the sign for Volterra. I immediately turned my phone off and meticulously watched the signs go by as Alice explained the plan.

00

As soon as we were out of the circular room, I flipped open my phone open and turned it on, closing my eyes tightly.

Edward attempted to put his arm around me as comfort. I just held my hand up and stood, pacing back and forth in front of them, hoping for a few bars, or one at least.

Finally, one bar. And a text message. And two voice messages.

The text message went as follows:

_'Bella, where the FUCK are you?! Charlie and I are worried sick.'_

And I quickly scrolled down the contacts list to the number for my voice mail.

The first message was from Andrew, and was a scream of obscenities about how he had to come home earlier, because apparently Jacob Black said I had ran off to hunt for Edward Cullen, who wanted to off himself. I cringed.

The second was calmer, more put together.

Andrew sighed into the recorder, "Look, you should have just let him go ahead and off himself. It was his choice. Just… come home soon, okay? Charlie's worried sick. Give me a call when you get relatively close. I miss you. Stay safe. Bye."

My sigh matched his exactly and I sat down on the floor and hugged my knees to my chest.

00

**PLAYLIST:** _This Circle_ by Paramore (It's a B-side. I suggest you download it.); _Black Cat_ by Mayday Parade.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Okay, I'm saying sorry before hand. No revisions, only spelling and grammar check. I have an essay on crazy religious poetry for english. Please don't maul me for not updating. My AP classes are killing me. And, just junior year in general. But, regardless, here's a short update. Which I'm sorry about and will fix this weekend, hopefully. I have a Art exhibit to go to at school, and it's labor day weekend. I'll try and update something, though. Just bare with me. :)


	14. Thank You

_"You wake up at SeaTac, SFO, LAX.  
You wake up at O'Hare, Dallas-Fort Worth, BWI.  
Pacific, mountain, central.  
Lose an hour, gain an hour.  
This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.  
You wake up at Air Harbor International.  
If you wake up at a different time, in a different place,  
Could you wake up as a different person?"_ – Fight Club 

00

He sounded sleepy when he picks up the phone. I'm in Seattle in a women's bathroom, resisting the urge to deck the door of the stall I'm in. "Hell…o? Who the hell calls jetlagged seniors at this hour when they're actually sleeping?"

"Andrew," I hissed into the phone.

He coughed and sounded a little more awake, "Oh. It's _you_. Where the _hell_ are you?" Now he sounded angry. Bitter. Like I was some irresponsible child who ratted him out. I just sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"I'm in Seattle. The airport, actually. I'm getting a flight to Port Angeles pronto. Think you can be there in an hour?"

I heard a creak and another cough, "You're definitely out of your fuckin' mind. And I'm fuckin' sick with a fuckin' cold. And you're gonna give me a goddamned ulcer." he said with a sigh.

I bit out a laugh, "I know. I am really out of my fuckin' mind. And sorry to both."

He sighed and I could hear a ruffle which I guessed was him pulling a shirt over his head, "Yeah, whatever. I guess you left your brain wherever you were before." he said absent-mindedly.

I just sighed, "How are you?"

He let out a bitter laugh, "Fucking peachy, Belle. Peachy."

I balled my right hand into a fist and clenched it, fingernails digging into my palm, and began to push it against the plastic-wood bathroom stall's walls. "Don't lie." I whispered quietly.

I heard a rip of which I'm certain was paper and the clink of a pen being taken out of a coffee cup that I knew was in the island of the Yorke's kitchen, along with a yellow legal pad. Just in case.

He didn't say anything for awhile, and I just heard him sigh and mumble something every few seconds. Meanwhile, I was guessing my middle knuckle would most likely have a bruise on it tomorrow.

"Go ahead," he said tiredly, "punch the wall. And I'm not exactly elated. I am happy you're, you know, breathing, and stuff. Leaving for three days with no phone calls and shite is serious business. You of all people should know that."

I reclined my fist and snapped it back into the wood-plastic wall, wincing slightly at the pain. "I know. And I'm sorry."

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he asked. And somewhere in the background I heard him grabbing his keys. That was reason to smile.

"Yeah. A little. Not much, though." I replied, attempting to remain calm.

"Huh. Well, that's a good sign, I suppose. I'll see you in Port Angeles, okay?"

I just leaned my head against the same plastic-wood of the bathroom stall, "Yeah. I'll see you then."

I heard the key turn and an engine roar to life.

_Click._

00

I only opened my mouth to ask when the next flight was. Other than that, I busied myself with a game on my phone. My iPod had run out of battery a long time ago. I sighed and pressed my head against the window of the plane, and then checked my watch. Forty-five more minutes.

Edward didn't say a word. He would glance over at me from time to time, a look of concern etched across his features. I would just hug my knees closer to my chest at those moments. If I looked him in the eye, well, there goes my chance at ever being independent ever again. And I was getting good at this whole 'Independent' thing.

No crutches. No pills. Just plain old self-reliance.

My phone buzzed and I sighed, flipping it open to see the text.

_'Im in PA. When do you get in?'_

I checked my watch and quickly punched in the response. I got a response a few minutes later.

_'20min?_ _Ok. See you soon.'_

Edward sighed and exchanged a glance with Alice, who looked sad, almost.

"Passengers, please fasten your seatbelts, we will be arriving in Port Angeles in approximately ten minutes."

00

As I figured, it would be damn near impossible to sidestep Carlisle and Esme's welcome home and thank you. Rosalie and Emmett were there, and I was grateful for Rosalie's apology. I smiled, was gracious, and mentally cringed at myself. I knew they of all people could see right through me.

Everything about being a fake I learned from Andrew. Smile. Wave. Be polite. Courtesy. That sort of thing. Too bad it only worked on humans.

He was the first person I saw when I got off the plane and into the terminal. Blue shirt. Jeans. Messy hair. Yep, that's Andrew. He was sitting in one of those uncomfortable airport terminal chairs, white headphones dangling from his ears, music being emitted from the small white tentacles. I took a seat next to him and plucked one of the ear buds from his ears and slipped it into my own and leaned on his shoulder.

The first thing he did was examine both of my hands, putting pressure on each knuckle. I winced when he pushed on my right ones.

He just shook his head and sighed, "That'll probably bruise, but there's nothing you can really do about it."

I just sighed and rubbed them, listening to the lyrics and the acoustic guitar. It was Bright Eyes. I guess he was going through yet another one of his indie-folk phase.

"You know," he said idly, "You could learn a thing or two from this song."

He opened his eyes and squinted at the bright lights, "God, since when do these places become like hospitals? It's the lighting, I guess."

I stifled a yawn and he turned to me, "Sleepy, eh? I should probably get you home. Charlie's most likely going to slaughter me for just that. I must be a terrible influence on you, my bad."

He stood and offered his hand to me. I merely waved it off and stood up myself.

"And that is definitely proof that chivalry is dead." he commented dryly as we began heading out of the terminal.

We had just crossed through the security breach when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Bella!" I sighed. Not now. My brain can't even function at the moment as is.

I turned slowly, only for her to stop dead in front of me.

"You forgot your bag." Alice said quietly, and handed me the small green duffle bag. I just nodded and mumbled my thanks and continued forward.

Andrew, on the other hand, stood back.

"Which one is your ex-boyfriend?" he asked with a frown.

"The boyish looking one, red-brown hair. Black shirt."

He shrugged, "Huh. You sure know how to pick 'em, apparently. Man, I bet Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory were _pissed_ when you landed him."

I sighed and pulled him towards the exit, "You have _no_ idea."

He just shrugged and squinted, examining the Cullen family. "Isn't that Dr. Carlisle Cullen?"

I just nodded and stared down at my shoes.

"I should probably go say hi and tell him thank you. Common courtesy, you know." Andrew said with a frown.

It was my turn to frown and be confused, "And why would you want to do that?"

He just shrugged, "He saved my life. You know, overdose?"

Oh. Right. That.

"Yeah. Go ahead. I'll wait here."

He looked at me. Hard. And shook his head. "Nevermind. I'll take you home. You need your sleep. Somehow I get the feeling that he knows."

Well, go fucking figure.

00

We exited the airport and finally found his car. Except it wasn't Andrew's car. It was a new blue BMW X5.

"It was a graduation present. My parents can't make it to graduation. Thus, car. Ta-da. Make what you want of that."

I rolled my eyes, "I liked the Benz better. It had character."

He shrugged, "Fair enough. But a new car is a new car."

I nodded and sighed, getting into the passenger seat.

He started the car and fiddled with the radio for a few seconds and put in a new CD.

"You can appreciate this." He said amicably as he pulled out of the parking lot.

We left right as Edward was getting in the car with Carlisle and Esme. He sent a glance in my direction, which I noticed, and met, much to my own displeasure.

Andrew looked over at me and gave me a reassuring smile, then began singing along with the song. It was cold comfort, I guess.

00

Halfway back to Forks I looked over at Andrew as he drove, and then turned the music down.

"Hey, Andrew?"

He glanced over at me quickly, "Hm?"

"Thanks. You know, for everything. Really, sincerely, thanks."

He smiled and squeezed my hand, "Anytime."

00

**PLAYLIST:** _Four Winds_ by Bright Eyes; _Company Calls Epilogue (Alternate) _by Death Cab For Cutie; _Out Through the Curtain_ by The Hush Sound; _You Might Have Noticed_ by The Academy Is…; _Independence Day_ by Elliott Smith; _The Shake (Awful Feeling)_ by My American Heart.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **When I first started this story, this was the scene that came to mind. There was one minor change to it, but not much. Anyway, five pages, finished within less than an hour. I was quite impressed. Sorry if any of you were confused with the last chapter, it was mainly just a filler that led up to this one. I'm betting there's only going to be about seven more chapters to this story. Maybe less. Don't hate me if it ends before 20. I usually like to keep it at 20, it's a pretty even deal. Anyway, have a fun labor day weekend, guys. At least, if you're in the US have fun, if not, just have a nice weekend. :)


	15. Remedy

_"So no regrets, and no looking back to sinking ships.  
I'll strip the gauze for a rational self-analysis.  
I'm down. Cut and bound.  
Counting scars, and counting blessings loud.  
So loud.  
I mist live to know that time alone is always  
healing as long as there's bleeding.  
No regrets or falling fits.  
I'll strip the gauze and bleed it.  
There's no worry.  
It's only simple therapy."_ – Hot Water Music, _Remedy_

**ANDREW.**

Footsteps on wood flooring. Hard wood flooring. Maple. Oak. Whichever. Most wood flooring is fake. Some form of plastic coated with paint to look like wood.

Most people don't have real wood floors in their houses. I had real wood floors in my house when I was little. When my dad was just a DA working in LA and my mom wasn't designing houses for corporate head honchos who cheat on their wives with their secretaries. Or her. You know, whichever.

Chief Swan gave me the routine twenty questions and a full police interrogation as to what I knew about what was going on with his daughter. Not that I knew, all I told him was that she got off a plane with her ex-boyfriend and his sister. And I told him that I never expected her to be the pretty boy type. After that, I drug her up to her room and we both crashed. Ironically, the Chief didn't care that we were sleeping in the same bed. Of course, I was fully clothed for her sake.

And at some point in time, I swore I heard her window open. Then again, I never have had the best hearing. Same with the footsteps thing. After that, I sighed and rolled over, snuggling close to her.

And oddly enough, Chief Swan still didn't mind when he saw us like that in the morning.

00

Mondays.

I've come to the conclusion that Mondays are always horrible. Always. Always always. Apparently, this Monday, above all Mondays, sucked for Bella. She had a death grip on my hand as we entered English first period. Which was impressive, seeing as she had small hands.

My iPod wasn't attached to my ears for the first time in weeks. I inhaled quickly and walked into the classroom. She did the same and kept her eyes on her shoes and distinctly away from the pretty boy ex-boyfriend. Why he decided to show his face here, I still had no clue.

"I never knew you had a thing for pretty boys, Swan." I said with a shake of my head, taking my seat behind her. She just turned shoved my shoulder and grumbled an "_Asshole._" in my ear.

I quietly slipped an earbud in my ear, and began drumming my fingers on my desk, which was most likely made out of cheap plastic made to look like wood. Go figure.

"What are you listening to?" she asked quietly as I continued to drum my fingers on my desk.

"Music." I said bluntly.

I heard her give an exasperated sigh, and then I felt another pang in my shoulder.

"The Blur, god. Ow. Jeez, Bella. Nice right hook you've got there. Use it when you actually _need_ it and not on my shoulder, please."

She just scoffed and leaned back in her desk, pulling her deep blue sweater closer to her body and grumbling a few obscenities in my direction.

I just rolled my eyes and answered the question Mr. Evans had asked.

00

Things had gradually gotten more awkward as the day went by. Dylan, Ryan and I had taken up the occupation of being Bella's personal body guards for the day. She walked in between us to classes and to lunch, steering clear of the ex and his sister. By lunch, though, she looked like hell. She looked from me, to Ryan, and to Dylan.

"I'm getting an excuse from Charlie and skipping the rest of the day. I just don't think I can handle school today.

Dylan just shook his head, "No way. I refuse to let you let them win. This is ridiculous."

I nodded and ran a hand through my hair, "Yeah. Going home is kinda pointless, anyway. We have a test in Spanish, and everyone knows that making up tests is a bitch. So, stay. Ryan and Dylan can be your protectors."

She frowned, cocking her head, "What about you?"

I shrugged, "Well, I figure I'm going to go run out to my car and grab my guitar and serenade you for awhile."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, while Dylan and Ryan exchanged a look. I rolled my eyes and stood, walking out of the front doors towards the parking lot.

As soon as I got out the doors and past the second brick building, I felt a body launch onto my back, knowing immediately who it was.

"God, Bella. You've gained weight. I think I liked you better when you were ninety-six pounds and angsty."

I felt a slight pain in my shoulder again and swatted at it.

"Ow! Hey! Who said you could hit back?!"

"It's self-defense. And I'm doing you a favor by carrying you. I mean, if you were Alex I would have just dropped you."

I felt her shrug and bury her head in my jacket hood. I looked back and noticed why. Edward Cullen.

"Is he stalking you, or something?"

She laughed slightly leaned closer to my ear. "_Maybe._"

I shrugged, "Fair enough, I guess. Hop off. All ninety-eight pounds of you is killing me. I'm only used to fifty pound ten year olds."

She rolled her eyes and hopped off, grabbing my hand quickly thereafter.

I looked down at her and laughed, "You're getting codependent. What are you going to do when you go to college?"

"We're going to the same college, you goof. And I think I can endure a dorm without you, thanks." she said with a shake of her head.

I just shook my head and clicked the unlock button on my key ring, causing the BMW to unlock, mumbling a "hate that car." under my breath.

"Hey, if you don't want it, I'll take it." she said amicably with a grin.

"Would you, please? I kid you not. I don't take well to expensive things. You should have seen the first iPod I got, oh man…"

She laughed and scooted in the back behind the back seats. I picked my guitar up and took it out of its case and began playing a few chords. She leaned back and tapped her foot on the floor and hummed the melody to the song I was playing.

I began singing the lyrics, and after the chorus she began the next verse.

My eyes were on hers the whole time, only looking down to make sure I was hitting the right chords. We finished, causing me to look up and smile.

She just shook her head, scooting close to me, "You're no Elliott Smith."

I shrugged, "Yep. I'm not dead, either."

She sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder as I strummed the guitar again. More Elliott Smith. We sang the words quietly and she kept her eyes on the guitar, and not the silver Volvo a few spots over and in front of us.

"Aren't you getting your hair cut today?" I asked, looking down at her.

She shrugged, "Yep. Pretty short, actually. To my shoulders... ish. Something like that. With layers."

I nodded, "Sweet. Do you mind if I join in? I'd want to see you with shorter hair."

"No problem," she said, looking directly at Edward Cullen for a brief moment, "Do you want to come over after that? Charlie has to work the late shift again."

"Yeah, sure. I have to call Aunt Sam and tell her, though."

00

A Spanish test, a shoot for photography, and a drive to Port Angeles later, I was with Bella in the hair studio, watching the stylist chat animatedly with her about something or other involving college while he snipped and layered away at her long brown hair.

Meanwhile, I aimlessly flipped through my copy of Watership Down and waited for her to get done.

A half hour later, it was done, bone straight, and I was extremely impressed. According to Bella, it was definitely worth the money.

"You should have him cut your hair next time we're here. He's great," she said, running a hand through her shorter hair.

I shrugged, "He did a good job. Your hair looks great, by the way."

She smiled and shook her head, "Thanks, sir. Let's head home. I'll make breakfast."

I beamed, "For dinner?"

She just nodded again and smiled.

00

**playlist: **_thrash unreal by_ against me!; _four winds_ by bright eyes; _I will be grateful for this day_ by bright eyes; _song 2_ by blur; _pictures of me & no name no. 5_ by elliott smith; _remedy & trusty chords_ by hot water music.

**author's note: **wow, guys. I think it really has been forever and a half since I updated, really. And for that, I'm really, really sorry. Really. Unfortunately, this is kind of a filler chapter. Things will probably get interesting soon, you know, with Edward back in the picture. For the record, I suggest that you read Chuck Palahniuk's new book _Rant_ and listen to _Thrash Unreal_ by Against me!

So, what's up with everyone's life? It's probably much more interesting than mine. Also, I'm plugging Emilie (emilie whoa). Go read her new story. It's pretty amazing.


	16. Don't Lose Touch

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Author's Note:** Uh, I lied? Sorry. Apparently all of you were super bummed, and I got my second wind. So no, I'm not leaving. Just expect updates to be really slow. I'm really busy. Hopefully this makes up for my... rudeness. And stuff. Sorry. :[ At least you guys get some Edward-Bella action? Yay? And yes, I know the tense is off at times. I'm aware of that. It's supposed to be that way.

_"S.O.S. texted from a cell phone?  
Please tell me I'm not the only one,  
that thinks we're taking ourselves too seriously,  
just a little too enamored with inflated self-purpose.  
Talk is cheap.  
And it doesn't mean much.  
__**Don't lose touch.**__" _– Against Me!

**Abstract.**

They crash into eachother like two mack trucks on a freeway. A freeway of students, that is. No fire or twenty car pile-up, though. Maybe traffic stops a little. They spin clumsily into a wall, all laughter and smiles, or should we call it a median? Him with his band tee shirts and leather jacket, and her with her fumbled movements and significantly shorter shoulder-length hair.

Yeah. That's them allright.

She's wearing one of his old Aquabats! Shirts that is blue and far too small for him, and he's got one of her plain red tee-shirts on under his leather jacket that smells like dryer sheets and well, leather. If she was a vegetarian, she'd probably kill him for the jacket.

And he puts his arm around her shoulder and smiles down at her, and she smiles up at him. And it's not one of those weird, awkward, or fake smiles. It's one of those 'just because' smiles. That would generally make other people roll their eyes at the overwhelming feeling of love, or awkward sexual tension.

We're going with the latter here, people. There's not overwhelming feeling of love, but you can definitely feel that weird awkward sexual tension in the air.

Jessica Stanley walks by them and wrinkles her nose at Lauren Mallory, who rolls her eyes. "Aren't they dating?" she asks, perturbed by the outright couple-y behavior exerted by our two subjects, who are now walking down the hall rambling on about some art project and some concert for some band coming up sometime soon.

Jessica shrugs nonchalantly, "Probably. They act like it."

Lauren merely mimics Jessica's motion and heads into her contemporary history class.

00

The fourth party member sat behind a drum set, lazily banging on it and talking on his cell phone to his mom at the same time. He's good at what he does, even if his other hand is occupied with his cell phone.

The audience member, the girl, she sits there with a cocked eyebrow and grins at the guitar player.

"Why do all girls like the lead singer?" he asked idly, and set his guitar down next to him, "I mean, I'm no Leonardo DiCaprio, or anything. But I keep getting these _looks_, and it's kinda creepy. Girls scare me sometimes."

She scoffed and shook her head absently. "Because you're you, Kingston. Forserious. Apparently you brought sexy back, or something. Beats me. Or maybe the prospect of having a song written about them. You should be scared of them, too. Be afraid. Be very afraid."

The bass player piped up, "Well, I'm going with the latter. Yeah. It's the song thing. I guess everyone wants to be remembered."

"Or a one-hit-wonder." the guitarist said under his breath, smirking towards their lone audience member.

"A notch in the bed post." she chipped in absently.

The drummer banged on a cymbal loudly, causing the audience member to wince and cover her ears, then wrinkle her nose in distaste. "Ow, Ry. Maybe play the drums a little… softer?"

The drummer shrugged and shook his head, tapping the cymbal lightly.

She ran a hand through her hair and looked down at her shoes, "I'm outta here. I have to study last minute for a calc test."

Guitarist cocks his head, "You didn't study?"

She scoffed again and swung her backpack over her shoulder, "No. I was on the phone with this douchebag until around eleven thirty last night. Then I went to bed."

He smiled sheepishly, "Sorry."

She rolled her eyes and opened the door, "Yeah. I bet you are."

The drummer did his typical comic relief beat and smiled at the guitarist, "You're hopeless, bro."

00

Her book is open on her lap and her head bobs absently to the music playing loudly from her iPod. Really, she never thought Sinead O'Connor covers could actually be… good.

She's too preoccupied doing equations to notice _him_ walking by. Go figure.

He stops in front of her and cocks his head slightly. She looks up to see sneakers, golden eyes, messy bronze hair, jeans, and an Abercrombie and Fitch tee-shirt. He looks nice in red. Bear in mind, she doesn't look him in the eye.

"You pull of the preppy look well." she says absently, tapping her pencil on her book. Not that she can say much to that one. Charlie _did_ buy her that one ridiculously expensive Abercrombie jacket for Christmas.

Now, cue that weird awkward sexual tension. Except it's ten times more intense now than it was before with Andrew.

And God, she really,_really_ hates that weird awkward sexual tension.

"So, uh," she stammered, and looked back up at his tall figure. The dark circles under his eyes are prominent more so now than they ever have been, "How've you been?"

He rolled his eyes and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not well," he admitted sheepishly with her favorite crooked smile.

Goddamnit, she _really_ hates that smile. It makes her do that whole cliché 'weak at the knees' thing. And that whole, 'uh, I'm vulnerable now' thing.

"And you?" he asks, looking genuinely interested in what she has to say.

Andrew doesn't do that all the time, though, but he always did. Everything about Andrew was very laid-back and nonchalant. Sure, they had their few intense moments, but he never hung on her words like Edward did.

She merely shrugged, "I've seen better days."

He only nodded and stared at her hard for a few seconds, while she merely focused on the white wall behind him. She could feel the guilt coming off him in waves, so the wall was best. She doubted she could even _attempt_ looking him in the eye.

"So," he said, sighing impatiently, "What does Andrew Kingston, the reformed cocaine addict have that I don't?"

Oh, she really should have seen that coming.

00

**Playlist:** _don't lose touch_ by against me!; _nothing compares to you_(_sinead o'connor cover) _by me first & the gimme gimmes.


	17. Words Defy the Plan

_"Fool enough to almost be it  
cool enough to not quite see it  
old enough to always feel this  
Always old, I'll always feel this  
No more promise no more sorrow  
No longer will I follow  
Can anybody hear me  
I just want to be me  
When I can, I will  
Try to understand  
That when I can, I will."_—Smashing Pumpkins, _Mayonaise_.

00

**ANDREW.**

By the time graduation rolled around, we still weren't dating, much to the distaste of Dylan and Ryan, who were just about sick of the constant awkward sexual tension. Really.

The weekend previous, we had pitched a tent in my living room and just sat for an extended period of time talking about Berkeley and Astrophysics and Disney movies and Princess Maria Angelina Fiona when Alexa had decided to crawl in between the sleeping bags and complain that the Prince thought the princess's mauve dress was ugly, and that she had a bad dream.

Personally, I would have to agree with the prince about the dress.

That weekend, among other things, someone from the school had called me and asked if I would play a final song for the senior class. Something… nice, nostalgic, they were thinking of that one overplayed Green Day song that everybody hates.

"If you play it, I'll supply the eighties style pyrotechnics." Bella had said nonchalantly as she began making chocolate chip pancakes for Alexa and me that morning. She was attempting to help me figure out a song to play that wasn't the corny Green Day one.

"Armageddon?" I prompted, hopping up on the counter next to the stove.

"Alkaline Trio?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow, "Do you _really_ think the school would go for a song that says _'I'll drink this beer and write in fear of a song everybody hates?'_ Honestly, Andrew. You might as well do some death metal or something."

"Hey!" I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest, "I like that song. A lot. It's perfect, too."

"You can't exactly change 'beer' to 'sparkling cider' though, can you?" she retaliated, putting a test pancake in the pan.

"We Looked Like Giants?" I suggested, wriggling my eyebrows.

"Sexual innuendo. Skipping Classes. If you could get away with it, go for it, but I highly doubt they'd let you do that."

Damn her for having tact and being the logical one. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. There's still no way in hell I'd do the Green Day song. Not even if it was a very last resort.

"Why don't you do some Elliott Smith? Maybe Independence Day or something."

I grinned, "Maybe you've got something there."

She shrugged and put a few pancakes on a plate for me. "Just a suggestion. You've got a week to turn in whatever."

I nodded and hopped off the counter, grabbing milk from the fridge and three glasses and began setting the table. Within a few minutes, Alexa was sliding into the kitchen, grinning madly. Apparently she had just discovered the wonders of socks and hard wood floors.

"Be careful, 'Lex. You might fall and bust your tailbone." Bella said nonchalantly as she slid a Mickey Mouse style pancake on a plate for her and set it on the table, along with her own.

Alexa just grinned and began eating her pancakes.

Bella and I exchanged a knowing look and went back to our food.

00

**abstract.**

Damn near perfect.

That was how anyone would have perceived them. Husband, wife, child.

Their hands were clasped together as they walked into the supermarket in order to get some sort of ingredient for a dinner dish that they would make later on. Maybe a casserole of sorts. Or maybe they were making cupcakes or a cake for the small child's birthday.

Older ladies and gentlemen smiled off into space when they noticed lost in their memories of times long ago. Frazzled mothers with screaming children in the cereal isle gave haphazard, almost warning grins. As if to say, _"This is what life is going to be like in a few years."_ These gestures were usually ignored or went unnoticed.

The girl merely looked at the boy, smiled, and picked up a package of lucky charms and went on to the next aisle.

She's wearing a necklace, some sort of homemade contraption, a small piece of black (mostlikely fake) leather, with a silver claddagh on it. If any person would take the time to look, they'd realize that he has the same, except it was hidden underneath a plain blue t-shirt. Not on purpose, but again, messily.

After filling a basket halfway with ingredients for some sort of cookies or cake, the couple checked out.

00

Not even a minute later, Rosalie Hale and Emmett Cullen parked at the grocery store in order to pick up a list of groceries for a pie their mother was making for a function that she and her husband had to attend. She pursed her lips and checked over the list once more and looked up at Emmett, who was staring at the entrance of the grocery store, head cocked slightly and pensive look across his features.

She turned and glanced in the same direction her husband was focused on, noticing the couple and raised an eyebrow skeptically. She watched the two carefully, noticing that they were holding hands. A small girl was sitting on his—Andrew Kingston's shoulders. Their hands swung back and forth casually, and she—Bella held a bag of groceries in her other hand.

Emmett exhaled and frowned slightly.

"You know, Rose, that picture would look perfect from the outside." He notes lowly with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Rosalie cocked her head and sighed tiredly. "Would, Emmett? What do you mean by that?"

Emmett, who, given the opportunity, could easily pull a Jasper and pay extremely close attention to peoples emotions and people in general. He looked down at his wife and put an arm around her shoulder and watched the couple walk to the car again.

"_Would_, by the fact that if she looked _happier_, then they would have looked like a picture of perfect parents and a perfect child doing normal shopping on a Sunday afternoon."

They shared a mutually sad smile and headed into the grocery store.

00

**playlist:** _good fucking bye_ by matt skiba; flight of the conchords on youtube(specifically, the boom song. Watch it.); _passenger seat_ and _we looked like giants_ by death cab for cutie; _this is for real_ by motion city soundtrack;_** anyone else but you **_**by the moldy peaches**.

**author note:** happychristmachannukwanzaa and new years. I hope yours was lovely and you got everything you wanted. Here's my present to you, regardless of what you celebrate. It's short but important. Also, as for definitions, a claddagh is a charm circa Ireland of two hands holding a heart. Google image search it if needed. Oh, and on a random note, I just heard the song _Sappy_ by Nirvana for the first time in at least two years. I forgot how much I liked that song. Best of luck in '08. :)


	18. Champagne Supernova

"_You're a part time lover and a full time friend  
The monkey on you're back is the latest trend  
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else  
But you  
Here is the church and here is the steeple  
We sure are cute for two ugly people  
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else  
But you" – _The Moldy Peaches

00

"So," she said nonchalantly, shuffling awkwardly in her gown, which swallowed her, "What song are you playing?"

She stood with Andrew, Ryan, and Dylan in some odd circle-square type shape, talking in hushed voices about the upcoming ceremony. Andrew shrugged and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's one of our songs." he said with a noncommittal shrug and tiny smirk.

She frowned, "But we have lots of songs! Every time we listen to music or drive around aimlessly, one of us butts in and declares something to the extent of: 'From now on, this is totally our song!' Not a fair explanation, Kingston."

He just cocked an eyebrow and smirked again, "Who said life, or any of my explanations in general were fair?"

She 'hmph'-ed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Aw, you know I always like to keep you guessing, Swan. It's fun."

She cracked a smile at that and shook her hair and blew part of her bangs out of her face. He just rolled his eyes and sighed. With that, all the seniors were called to take their seats so that the graduation ceremony could commence.

00

As the ceremony droned on and Eric Yorkie made his speech about leaving and how life was like one big circle, or the water cycle, or something, Andrew Kingston tapped one of his old sneakers on the gym floor and thought of the chords and lyrics to the cover he was doing. He looked behind him and down the row a little and saw his favorite tiny brunette, looking like she was about to fall asleep. Her hand was cupped against the back of her neck, and she leaned forward on her knee, eyes barely open. She looked his way lazily and gave him a sleepy half smile and rolled her eyes in Eric Yorkie's direction. He grinned and turned around in his seat and yawned.

After two more speeches, he was introduced. He picked up his guitar case and settled down on a stool that was provided. He sighed and began nonchalantly strumming his guitar to the all-familiar chords to a very famous 1995 song by two Gallagher brothers.

_"Someday you will find me  
Caught beneath the landslide  
In a champagne supernova in the sky  
Someday you will find me  
Caught beneath the landslide  
In a champagne supernova  
A champagne supernova in the sky  
Wake up the dawn and ask her why  
A dreamer dreams, she never dies  
Wipe that tear away now from your eye  
Slowly walking down the hall  
Faster than a cannonball  
Where were you while we were getting high?"_

His foot tapped to keep rhythm, and Ryan and Dylan whipped out their cell phones and oscillated them back and forth. Bella just smiled and nodded her head to the beat and the random guitar solos.

_"How many special people change?  
How many lives are living strange?  
Where were you while we were getting high?  
Slowly walking down the hall  
faster than a cannonball  
where were you while we were getting high?  
Someday you will find me  
Caught beneath the landslide  
In a champagne supernova in the sky  
Someday you will find me  
Caught beneath the landslide  
In a champagne supernova  
A champagne supernova  
'Cuz we don't believe  
That they're gonna get away from the summer  
But you and I will never die  
The world's still spinning around we don't know why."_

He finished with a smirk, stood, and tossed his cap into the air. Like a highly contagious disease, the rest of the graduating class began to mimic his action by tossing their caps in the air.

00

Gowns were peeled off quickly in order to get back to the normalcy of cotton fabrics as opposed to the large polyester gowns that looked more like choir robes. Word spread like a California wildfire that Jessica Stanley was having a party at her house later that night. Andrew grinned and shook his head at the idea of a party. Of course, he was probably going to end up going anyway. The male company he kept made him, with the promise of "Maybe there will be College guys there! College guys, Andrew! College. That's serious business."

The womanly company he kept, however, walked up to him in a crimson colored dress and smacked him in the arm, "You played _Champagne Supernova?__Champagne _freaking _Supernova_ by _Oasis_? Why?"

He shrugged, "It's so ridiculous it worked. Why do you care? You like Oasis. You like Oasis a lot, actually…"

She shrugged and ruffled his hair, "You're still lame for playing Oasis, as much as I like them. I can't believe the administration let you go through with that. I mean, for chrissakes, there's a line that says, '_Where were you while we were getting high?'_ I still can't believe you got away with that…"

"That doesn't matter to me. It's still a ridiculously cool song."

"I concur, but—"

With that, she spotted Charlie out of the corner of her eye. She looked over at him, and raised her eyebrows. He just smiled sheepishly and lumbered over and shook Andrew, Dylan, and Ryan's hands quickly as they exchanged congratulations and greetings. Charlie mentioned something to Bella about eating out at some Lodge restaurant causing her to smile and nod curtly, give Ryan and Dylan quick hugs goodbye, promising to see them later.

When she came to Andrew, she lingered for a moment, "See you at Stanley's party later tonight, okay?" she whispered into his ear. He smiled and nodded.

"Yeah. See you there. Catch a ride with Ryan, okay? I may be a little late. Dylan and I have to go pick up an old turntable his uncle has for him in Port Angeles."

She just nodded and dashed off. He held up a hand and waved goodbye and she smiled and continued towards Charlie and the gym doors, almost running into Edward Cullen, which caused both of them to scowl slightly. His uncle wrapped him in a one-armed manly hug then, noting the fact that his parents would be oh so proud, and they were really sorry that the had to miss it – his mom was designing a house for the CEO of Nike and his dad was working on a huge murder trial, or something. Same old bull different day. He just smiled and pulled Alexa onto his shoulders. She grinned and beat on his head lightly.

"You're getting too big for this, yeah?" he said with a grin.

The tiny blonde leaned down and touched her head with his. "Maaayyyybeeee. But I know something you don't know."

He attempted to look perplexed, "And what might that be?"

She covered her mouth to suppress a giggle, "She likesss youuu. And you like herr, don't youu?"

He grinned and shrugged, keeping a hold on her feet. "Maybe. When did little kids get so smart?"

It was her turn to shrug as he set her down and in the back seat of the BMW. "You should tell her you like her."

He shook his head and laughed, "Yeah. And Princess Maria Angelina Fiona is going to marry Viktor Krum."

00

**playlist:**_ oasis; the moldy peaches; the hives; the zutons; ska-p_; _& many more._

**author's note:** two more and an epilogue to go! huzzah! no sequels. Sorry the playlist is kinda vague. I didn't really keep track of what I was listening to, but that's the basic list of artists to go from. This was one of my goals for the long weekend I'm having. Also, another part of Over Spilled Milk, or OSM as I like to call it. (Now with more Dialogue and less cryptic descriptions!) Also, I have a research paper I have to research/write. Fun stuff. Questions? Comments? Criticisms? PM me. I'm kind nof lacking a life at the moment.


	19. While You're Waiting

**Author's Note** One out of two for the party chapter. It was going to be just one chapter, but hell, why not extend it? End the story on an even number. I've always been more partial to evens anyway. I forgot how much I adored alkaline trio, btw. Anyway, here's a new chapter. And maybe there will be a FINISHED party chapter out this weekend, depending on whether I decide to do my AP Prompts this weekend or not. Anyway, here we go. Questions, Comments, Criticisms, and reviews screaming at me for not updating sooner are all welcome. :) 

* * *

_"And I don't know how you feel  
But I'll make you a deal  
If you make it out alive  
My shoulders and ears  
Are all yours my dear  
I hope it comes as no surprise  
You've been known to say  
That you're a-okay  
When you're feeling sick inside  
I just want you to know  
I got no place to go  
Until the day you die"—_Alkaline Trio

00

Jessica Stanley's party was typical of any high school party ever had, started, or any of that crap. You knalkaline trioow, obnoxious pop-techno-headache worthy music blaring through her parents' stereo, random kids consuming far too much alcohol to be good for them, random people making out, and some that you could guess would end up with a lovely case of herpes sometime within the next few months. 

Ryan and Bella pulled up as the party was getting started. Both of them were dressed casually—Ryan in jeans and an old gray t-shirt, along with a blue hoodie over it, while Bella just wore a pair of old converse, a pair of skinny jeans, a plain black shirt, and a red coat over it. Her bangs were pulled back and her hair was in a pony tail. 

"We should have bought some Excedrin if we plan on surviving the night," she mused, shivering a little and pulling her jacket closer to her body. Ryan just shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"I'm sure the Stanley's have some in a medicine cabinet somewhere. Just don't take anything anyone offers you pill-wise. It might be E, or something. I wouldn't put it past some of the people here to drug a girl."

"Seriously Ryan, my dad's the police chief. I'm aware. I know. Plus, I'm the designated Dave of the night. No consumption of alcohol for me, thanks." 

He entered the house and winced slightly due to the loud bass of the music. He just sighed and grabbed Bella's hand and headed in the direction of the kitchen. They swerved past people making out on the couch and people dancing in the living room, holding drinks and swaying to the rhythm.

"You know, if it's possible for someone to get pregnant from dancing, it'd totally happen here. Since when did dry humping, and-or sexing eachother up qualify as dancing?"

Ryan just looked back at her and shook his head, smiling tiredly. They ended up in the kitchen where everyone and their brother was mixing, pouring, or drinking alcohol. Ryan opened the fridge and pulled out two waters, tossing one to Bella. She caught it with ease and surveyed the room with an amused look on her face. 

"Let's go outside. I think they have a fire going on out there, or something." Ryan said, grabbing her hand and dragging her outside. 

00

Dylan and Andrew arrived shortly thereafter, and Dylan headed straight to the kitchen to catch up with some of the older kids, and the previous years' class that was at the party to congratulate the seniors. Andrew exchanged numerous 'Hi, How Are You?'s and caught up briefly with some of his old friends, who were guzzling down Vodka by the bottle and chain smoking cigarettes. He hastily declined both when offered and smiled politely to excuse himself.

He wandered outside to the back yard, where he spotted Bella and Ryan sitting on top of a picnic table whispering quietly to eachother. Ryan saw him out of the corner of his eye and waved his arms madly, calling him over. Andrew nodded his head and took a seat next to Bella.

"What's going on?" He asked, frowning slightly.

Ryan sighed in annoyance, "Well, Edward Cullen, his sister and brother, along with their respective lover... things… are here. So we're putting Project Bodyguards into operation… again. God, I hate Project Bodyguards, I mean, really, god, you're eighteen, what are you going to do when you go to college?..."

He trailed off and continued rambling, while Bella just cocked an eyebrow.

"You know, I'm not a little girl. I can easily protect myself against the big, bad Cullen family. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself."

Ryan shrugged noncommittally, "Your funeral, my dear Bella."

00

Shortly After, Angela and Ben joined the group outside on the picnic table, sick of the atmosphere inside. Bella acknowledged them with a nod and a smile. Angela smiled back and leaned on Ben, all while watching Andrew strum the guitar and sing, obviously enjoying himself. That was when he was at his best, wailing on some sort of instrument (preferably guitar) and singing some song he had made up off the top of his head, or covers of songs he, or other people liked. He was a real crowd pleaser, and at the moment he was playing some Led Zeppelin song and soloing. Bella rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder and whispered something into his ear, causing him to smirk slightly and send her a look.

She just rolled her eyes and went back to tapping her foot to the music, and occasionally singing along with him. Angela was happy that they seemed happy. He helped her get over her zombie mode, and she was grateful for that. He smiled over at Angela and Ben and nodded, acknowledging them in his own way. 

"Well," he said with a sheepish grin, "I'm definitely not a good combination of Jimmy Page and Robert Plant."

"His pants were creepy in that DVD you lent me. I was watching it with Charlie and it got a little awkward." Bella mused and looked over at him. They exchanged a glance and she shook her head.

"Which one, Page or Plant?"

"Plant, obviously. I mean, his pants were tighter than your average scenester's pants. And well, you could see male cleavage."

Andrew winced and shook his head, as if he had tasted something bad, "Yeah. I know. It's a little awkward."

"A _little_ awkward? I mean, not that I personally don't enjoy the view, but, yeah. For you guys… that must be way awkward. Especially with the Chief." Ryan piped in with a grin. 

"Okay, yeah, we get it, it's awkward." Dylan piped in, walking up with a beer in hand. He slid in next to Ryan as Andrew began strumming chords in tune to a Shins song. 

Bella stretched and stood, "I'm going in to get more water. Anybody want anything?"

Andrew frowned, "Um. If they have any form of caffeine that doesn't have alcohol in it, that would be lovely, thanks."

"Okay. Anyone else?"

A chorus of "No's" and head shakes signaled their answers, so she just smiled and headed in to grab a water and something with caffeine in it that didn't contain alcohol. Good luck finding something like that at a house party like this one. 

00

She slipped into the house quickly, hoping to avoid an ambush of 'CONGRATS ON GETTING INTO BERKELY! I'LL MISS YOU SO MUCH AND IT'LL BE SO WEIRD WITHOUT YOU HERE!' She did so quickly, and tiptoed around people making out and chugging alcohol, all while attempting to look nonchalant in order to pick up a girl or guy for the night.

She yawned and shook her head, then looked down at her watch, noting the fact that it was around 9:45, and the party hadn't even been in full swing yet. She continued her way to the kitchen, pulling another bottle of water out of the fridge, and flicking over the contents for soda. Seeing as there wasn't anything else besides orange juice, she slammed the door and sighed, looking over to the counter where some guy she didn't know was attempting to persuade some girl to drink something in a red plastic cup – the generic sign of alcohol in a cup.

She shook her head tiredly, "Hey, if she doesn't want to drink it she doesn't have to. Don't force her."

The guy sent her a look of annoyance and dumped the drink out in the sink and rolled his eyes, stomping off in annoyance. Bella just shook her head and rubbed her temples, then smiled at the girl in reassurance. "You _might_ want to be careful of what you drink. Some people use date rapes at parties. That's just me, though."

The girl smiled gratefully and smiled at Bella, "Thanks. I'm new to this whole party thing. I got invited by a senior, so he took me."

Bella cocked an eyebrow, "I'd be careful if I were you. The party scene isn't exactly a good situation to put yourself, especially one like this. Oh, also, have you seen any unopened sodas around here anywhere?"

The girl scanned the room and shook her head, "No, sorry. I think all the cokes have been turned into rum-and-coke combinations."

She scrunched her nose up and sighed, "Damn. Thanks anyway, though. Be careful what you drink. Have fun."

The girl smiled and waved, then grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. Bella smiled and nodded, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket and heading out to the living room of the Stanley's house, where some sort of trendy pop punk ballad about teenagers cheating on eachother was playing. She smirked to herself and shook her head, duly noting a couple making out on a wall. Well, someone's heart is bound to bet broken tonight.

She glanced over the room, hunting for an unopened soda, or a cooler that was potentially full of unopened sodas for rum-and-cokes that hadn't been made yet. She scrunched her face up again, this time in annoyance. 

Then, she heard the shriek. 

"BELLA!" a very, very intoxicated Jessica Stanley screeched. 

"Bella, you haave to get a picture with me, Lauren and Angela! Just us girls from the group! It'll be the besttt!"

She rubbed her temples and looked at Jessica's pouting face and nodded, not wanting to face the consequences of an extraordinarily drunk drama queen. Plus, everyone knows hell hath no fury like a drunken drama-slash-gossip queen. 

"Sure, Jess. Where do you want me to stand?"

"Here's good." She said with a grin, and handed her camera over to some random girl who looked slightly sober. 

"Hey, will you get a picture of us?" 

The girl merely nodded and Jessica pushed the four of them together and slung her arm over both Bella and Lauren's shoulders. Bella shook her head and exchanged an annoyed glance with Angela. The girl looked at them and smiled, "This is gonna be cute, guys. Ready? One, two, and three…"

The click of the digital camera taking a picture wasn't distinguishable over all the noise from everyone talking and the music. Bella plastered on her cheesiest smile and then untangled herself from the mess of drunken limbs she was attached to, bidding her goodbyes and then continuing her hunt for the ever-elusive cooler full of sodas. And alcohol. There was bound to be many of those here. She finally gave up, turning around to grab Andrew a glass of Orange juice or a bottle of water from the freezer, because there was no way in hell that she was going to tango her way through the variety of people dancing (if one could even call it that) in Jessica's living room. 

With that, she walked away to the kitchen, eyes focused on her shoes. That is, until she ran into an extremely cold… and hard chest. She looked up and smirked slightly at the boy in his Ray Bans, "So Edward, why are you wearing your sunglasses at night?"

00

playlist: _take me out_ by franz ferdinand; _wonderwall_ by oasis;_ with a little help from my friends_ by the beatles; _black dog_ by led zeppelin; _walking _away and _keasbey nights_ by streetlight manifesto; dub_ 56_ by the toasters(BEST SONG!); _we looked like giants _by death cab for cutie; _sunglasses at night_ by corey hart; lots of raunchy pop music, too. You can't write a high school party chapter without raunchy pop music. 


	20. Walking Away

**Author Note:** Oh Jeez. Six pages. Please enjoy. I think the majority of you will. I HIGHLY suggest downloading the playlist, really. Also, for the record, it's around one in the morning and I have to get up at 6:45 tomorrow morning to go to Orlando. Glorious. Also, I'm on spring break. Woo. Don't expect a new chapter anytime soon. When I get back from Orlando on Thursday I'm strictly working on my research paper and patiently waiting for the new episode of the Office on Thursday night. So pumped. You seriously have no idea. Also, um, my mom bought me bubble tea tonight. She rules my life at the moment.

And you know what else rules my life?

Feedback. Feedback rules my life.

So, feedback? Por favor? :)

* * *

_"__I can't stop the feeling as I'm walking away,  
and I can never understand half the things you say,  
and we're walking, walking, walking away.  
So I said here's to me, to you, to us,  
to everything before it fell apart,  
and we're walking, walking, walking away.  
Things were better then,  
you felt that you had to pretend,  
but as the time goes by,  
you stop and sigh,  
you stop and sigh and then you wonder why_."—Streetlight Manifesto, _Walking Away_

00

"So I'm assuming the sunglasses are your new trademark, right?" she asked, gesturing to the rayban wayfarers on his face. He merely pulled them off and cocked an eyebrow at her, giving her that stupid crooked smile that would make any girls' knees turn to the consistency of jell-o. Jerk.

She sighed in utter irritation, "Do you really have to do that dazzling thing still? The fact that it's dark and rave-y in here makes you even more you… ish that usual."

"Do you really lose your ability to create coherent sentences that actually make sense whenever you're around me?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She just rolled her eyes and nodded towards the front door. She slithered between small spaces and ducked under outstretched arms that balanced a body on a wall and made her way towards the front door. He followed behind her, seeming to float past people drinking their crude drinks and noting the girls who would probably end up doing things they would regret in the morning.

They finally made it to the door and she slipped out quickly, leaving space for him to exit as well. She stepped out into the cold air and inhaled sharply, then pulled her jacket around her tighter.

"You know, it shouldn't be this cold. It's June." she grumbled, then looked up at the night sky.

"Orion." he noted dutifully, following her gaze. She squinted slightly.

"Can't see it. But the big dipper is over there. See?" she asked, gesturing and outlining the constellation of stars.

He nodded quietly in affirmation and continued staring into the night sky.

"Keys, please." she finally said, holding out her hand. He looked at her skeptically and arched an eyebrow.

"Are you kidnapping me?" he asked, smirk playing over his handsome features.

She shook her head and chuckled slightly, responding with a quick "Negative, ghostrider. Now let me have your keys." He merely pulled them out of his pocket and dropped them into her outstretched palm. She caught them with ease and began flipping through them.

"Let's see if I remember these…" she said with a determined look on her face "….house, garage…. Record cabinet, Rosalie's BMW, Piano…. A-ha. Volvo key. Neat." she selected the right Volvo key and headed towards the silver car that was parked near the Stanley's house. She quickly unlocked the driver's side door and pulled out her cell phone for light.

She shone the light around the drivers seat area, by the wheel, near the ground, mumbling "trunk, trunk… where's the trunk button…" finally, of course, the trunk button was found, which caused for a slight squeak of pride for the tiny girl.

The trunk popped and she opened it, taking a seat in the back. Edward cocked an eyebrow, curious of her motives the whole time. She rolled her eyes at him and gestured to the empty space next to her. He cocked an eyebrow again.

"Well, sit." she said in a 'duh'-tone. "We're going to have a lovely little chat that's quite overdue."

00

It was awkward at first, but then the words started cascading down like an avalanche on behalf of both patrons. Both spoke in turns, and listened carefully when they were spoken to. Essentially, they did what Kurt Cobain called in one of Nirvana's songs, _shooting the shit; _in other words, petty catching up and dancing around the important topics and questions that needed to be answered.

"Oh yeah. Group therapy was glorious, really. Quite glamorous. The strung out look suits some exceptionally well." she cracked sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. "And the coffee sucked, too."

He just shook his head and laughed, "Since when did you like coffee?"

She 'Psh'-ed him and grinned lightly, "Since about… oh, November or December. Around when Andrew and I got pretty close. He drinks it, and I just sorta picked it up that way. You know what I'm talking about, way you'd pick up on words your friends say if you were around them too much. You understand."

He nodded and grimaced in annoyance. "So, while we're on the topic of Andrew Kingston, did you know that he just so happens to be a reformed cocaine addict?"

Bella just gave him a look and shook her head, "Oh, please. People change, Edward. It's not like you're perfection in the flesh, besides the look. He's not doing coke anymore, and he's not hanging out with those people anymore. I'm not saying he's one-hundred percent recovered, no addict ever is, but he's trying and doing well. Andrew's not perfect and neither are you. Honestly. Get over it."

He cleared his throat and sighed, "I apologize. It wasn't right to disrespect your friend."

She noted the fact that he said 'friend' with bitterness and annoyance. She knew Edward well enough; boys like Andrew Kingston were looked down upon greatly. She knew that for a fact. It was annoying, the arrogance, but she was used to it.

Bella shook her head and sighed, "Whatever, Edward. It's finally gotten to that point in the conversation, hasn't it?"

He looked her in the eyes, the topaz smoldering, as per usual. "What are you talking about?"

She laughed a cynical, sarcastic, laugh. "You know exactly what the hell I'm talking about, Edward. Don't play dumb. You're too brilliant for that and I know you too well."

He crossed his arms over his chest and met her eyes, his own eyes becoming hard and cold. "Fine, _Isabella_. I have a question for you, and I'm sure you have one for me."

She nodded, "Go on. An eye for an eye. I'll give you an honest answer if you give me and equally honest one."

He smirked, "You never did answer my question. From in the hall a couple months ago."

She nodded curtly again, "No, I didn't. I wasn't ready to answer it. And, in all honesty, I don't think I can give you a straight answer. I can state the obvious, like, oh, I don't know, the fact that he has a fully-functioning heart that pumps blood through his body, and the fact that he wouldn't leave me for some random reason. But as I recall, your question was '_what does he have that I don't_', correct?"

"That would be correct."

"Well, cliché question, for one, but off the top of my head, and besides the obvious, he _understands_, Edward. He helped me get from point A to point B in getting over the fact that you up and left with practically no rhyme or reason. Well, technically there was a reason, but god forbid it ever be a legitimate reason," she said with a scoff of disgust, "So Charlie sent me to a shrink. You knew that already. He's her nephew, I met him in group. We started to hang out. We clicked. He brings out the best in me. He helped me remember what it was like, to, I don't know, be content with my life? He picked up the pieces to the puzzle you gave up on when things got the least bit challenging, and hell, he _finished_ the damn thing, too."

They sat there, glaring at eachother for a few seconds. One glared at the other passively, with a hint of pain and anger, while the other glared in absolute and total fury at the other.

"So I'm assuming your question is why I left."

She did one of those mocking nods. "Yeah."

"I left because I loved you and didn't want you to be _killed_,Bella. Things are already dangerous enough around here for you, anyway. My staying could have just presented a bigger problem. You were better off without me. But when I saw you in Volterra… you weren't happy. You were all in one piece, and you seemed okay, but not happy. And I wanted you to be happy… I thought you _could_ be happy."

She bit her lip in uncertainty. "Well, your plan failed. Miserably. Congratulations on that." she said quietly, biting her lip again.

"Do you still love me, though?" he asked, almost pleadingly.

She stared up at the sky and smiled timidly. "Huh. I do see Orion now…"

00

After a few more minutes of stargazing, she came back to.

"Part of loving someone is the ability to let them go. Oddly enough, I think it was a Christina Aguilera song that said something about 'if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it's yours.' I don't know. I never really paid much attention to that type of thing. For some reason, it struck a chord with me. You never forget your first love. I've heard that… so many times. I can't count. And, that's true. You don't ever forget your first love. But there comes a point when you just…" she shrugged and exhaled, "let them go. There's nothing you can do. I figured you were gone forever. So, I just… let you go. Of course, the duct tape holding me together kind of fell off as soon as you came back, but that still didn't change. Part of me still loves you immensely, but I just… let you go. And for that, I'm really, sincerely sorry."

He gazed up at the stars for a long time, not saying anything.

"Okay. I understand."

00

They walked back to the party side by side in a comfortable silence, but unfortunately, that comfortable silence was filled with that awkward sexual tension that she hated so much. As they ambled up to the deserted front porch, Edward sighed tiredly.

She was about to open the door, and he quickly grabbed her arm and pinned her against the wall, lips collapsing onto lips. The last kiss. Good god, what a cliché. It was worthy of every single teenage movie ever made. He pulled away, gasping for air and she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.

Edward gave her hand a squeeze and slowly let go. He looked back at her and smiled.

"I'll see you around, Bella."

"A better place, a better time, Edward. Good luck at Dartmouth."

He nodded. "Good luck at Berkeley."

She gave a small wave and sighed as he drove off.

_someday you will say "that's it, that's all"  
but I'll be waiting there with open arms to break your fall  
I know that you think that you're on your own  
but just know that I'm here  
and I'll lead you home  
if you let me  
__**she said "forget me"  
but I can't**_

00

Andrew Kingston hadn't had a drink in months. An alcohol-related drink, that is. Maybe a year, if he wanted to round off. But, unfortunately, he made the mistake of opening the front door to the Stanley house at the worst moment.

Because Edward Cullen had pinned Bella Swan against a wall and was kissing her.

Part of him wanted to smack her, and part of him wanted to punch himself in the stomach, and the rest of him wanted to deck Edward Cullen. He shook his head in disappointment and quietly closed the door. And in that exact moment, he thought, _'Fuck it.'_ as he walked to the kitchen, where two guys he faintly knew were pouring vodka shots. He took one and downed it easily, not even noticing the burn in the back of his throat as the liquid went down.

One of the polo-clad guys congratulated him and gave him a high-five. He returned it and smiled to himself.

_'Yeah,'_ he thought,_ 'Fuck it.'_

And took another shot off the counter.

_Oh! My Dear! My tis of thee! What a tangled web we weave!  
Everyone is the one until the one falls down  
Then we're all just "please, please, please"  
The painted rust will only fool the fools for just so long  
Eventually, that's when they'll see everything was wrong_

00

Noise: streetlight manifesto- walking away, what a wicked gang are we, somewhere in the between, a better place, a better time.


	21. You Wouldn't Like Me

**Disclaimer:** not mine. lalala. I'm just having a bout of insomnia after an extremely hectic week.

**Author Note:** pardon moi, but my legs are numb/asleep. there's an orange tabby sleeping on them at the moment. So, um, filler chapter! neat! The dramz is next chapter. Okay, um, also, I have a bit of a challenge for you guys. If you can find the death cab for cutie reference in this chapter, I'll totally give you an infinite amount of cookies. I'm sorry this is a filler, though. It needed to be done, though. Drunken rambling Andrew makes me a little sad. The next chapter is more interesting. and for the people who want Bella and Andrew together, well...

anyway, enjoy. feedback is awesome. Also, I'm really glad you guys like Over Spilled Milk. I'm actually kinda impressed at how many people actually do like it. Now, I'm off to watch Iron Chef and attempt to sleep. have an excellent weekend. :)

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_"__There's a war inside of me  
Do I cause new heartbreak to write a new broken song?  
Do I push it down or let it run me right into the ground?  
I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me  
Well I can't stop talking for fear of listening to unwelcome sound  
And you haven't called me in weeks and honestly it's bringing me down  
I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me  
I feel like you wouldn't like me if you met me  
And don't you worry there's still time  
There's nothing to live for when I'm sleeping alone" _- Tegan and Sara

00

So, she looked for him. Really, she did. For about a half hour. Then she ran into Dylan, who told her that he was with Ryan, moping and nursing a bottle of Smirnoff. Contrary to popular belief, she never expected to see him trashed and leaning on Ryan for support because he couldn't even stand. She mentally winced and sighed, shaking her head and going into the equivalent of human cruise control, which is essential for all minor disaster situations.

"Hey," she said to Ryan quietly, "What happened?"

"Something about you kissing Edward Cullen. That and incoherent mumbling. What can you expect?" he said with a shrug and shifted to support Andrew more.

She shook her head and quietly brushed some of his hair from his face. She looked up at Ryan and smiled sympathetically. "Technically, this is my fault. So I'll take him home and stay on hangover duty, okay?"

The other just nodded and handed over the wobbly Andrew Kingston. "I want to hear all about this little escapade with Edward Cullen once we're all sober and clear-headed. Okay?"

She quickly waved him off and nodded, "Sure, no problem. We'll catch a movie and dinner sometime soon."

Ryan just nodded and sighed, shoving past people making out and making his way toward the front door. Bella supported Andrew all the way to the blue Mercedes-Benz. Ryan fished Andrew's keys from his pocket, seeing as the boy couldn't even find the right pocket that the keys were in.

"I'll take him home." she said quietly and took the keys from Ryan's hand. "You should go and have fun. This is sort of my fault anyway."

Ryan just nodded and grasped the other side Andrew that wasn't supported by Bella in order to sit him in the passenger seat. With quite a bit of dragging, pulling, and a stop to puke in the bushes near the Stanley's neighbor's house, they finally got him around to the passenger side and in the seat.

They both exchanged exhausted looks once they got him into the car. Bella sighed and gave him a tight smile. He wrapped his arm around her in a one-armed hug.

"You okay to drive?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She nodded tiredly, "Yeah. I'm good. I just had water tonight, nothing else."

He nodded and opened the drivers' side door for her and watched while she adjusted her seat and mirrors. She rolled the window down and started the car.

"Well," she said with a tired smile, "Tonight's been interesting."

He barked out a laugh, "Yeah. That's a bit of an understatement. "

She rolled her eyes and put the Benz in reverse. "Have a nice night, Ryan. Be careful driving."

He nodded and held up a hand as a signal for goodbye, then frowned as if remembering something fairly important. "Bella! Hey! Don't take him to his Aunt and Uncle's. They'd be way disappointed in him. Just let him crash on your couch, okay?" he yelled. She stopped, understood what he was saying, and gave a nod and a thumbs up in a sign of 'yes,' then headed down the street.

00

He stared blankly out the windshield, eyes bloodshot; head a mess of jumbled words and thoughts. She kept the volume on low as opposed to turning it up so high that he couldn't even construct a thought. Well, come to think of it… he couldn't really paste together a coherent thought, or sentence, for that matter.

The sound was noticeable, and she hummed along quietly.

He looked out the window and the windshield, noticing the stars. She kept her hands on the wheel and stayed at a constant 30 miles per hour around town. She crept her way home and enjoyed driving the Benz.

"I like this car." she said quietly with a timid smile.

"Yeah," he slurred, "It's a nice car."

There was silence for a few more minutes until they got onto the road that headed towards Charlie's. He put his old sneakers on the dash and continued to look out the passenger seat window at the evergreens and sky, then sighed, "Do they collide?" he asked, and she smiled.

She shrugged her shoulders and pulled into Charlie's driveway.

00

A grand total of twenty minutes later, two trips back to the bushes so that Andrew could empty the contents of his stomach, and a trip back to the car for his jacket, they made it safely into the house.

She helped him up the stairs and shoved him in the bathroom with a pair of pajamas and boxers she had borrowed once when she had spilled something on her pants. "Don't drown in there." She said with a roll of her eyes as she shut the door.

00

She set a bucket by her bed and pulled the covers back, adding an extra blanket to the bottom of the bed in case he needed it. After that, she gathered some sheets and a quilt and made the couch up, tossing a pillow at one end of it. It would double as her bed tonight.

She shoved an old t-shirt over her head and pulled a pair of flannel pants on. She stretched and flopped back on her bed to wait for Andrew, who stumbled out about five minutes later, looking slightly sobered up.

She stood and steered him towards the bed, hands on his shoulders, guiding him. "You're crashing here tonight," she said, and pointed to the bucket, "If you need to puke, puke in there, okay?"

He nodded and yawned, slurred a "Thanks, Bella." And closed his eyes. She shut her lamp off and crept towards the door.

"Oh, and Bella," he continued, "We're having a talk tomorrow." It was less slurred, but mixed with sleep, but more coherent. She had a sinking feeling that she was probably in trouble. Or maybe she was getting an ulcer. If she did get an ulcer, she figured she might as well name it Edward Cullen.


	22. The Young Crazed Peeling

**Disclaimer:** not mine.

**Author Note: **what you've been waiting for. two in a day, you should also be impressed. I, on the other hand, should have done my AP Prompts. Oh well. Procrastination has never hurt anyone. regardless, enjoy - feedback is awesome. and it makes me insanely happy, just like the fact that my mom is taking me to go see ALKALINE TRIO in june. yayy. :)

* * *

_"I speak of the truth the truth of the heart  
Like a desperate thirst in a raging drought  
Hey youth, time flies by  
There's an everlasting battle for eternal life  
I love a man from California  
He's the prettiest thing, we have the same disorder  
The way you feel, it's okay, its never gonna change anyway"_ – The Distillers

00

When she woke up from the couch, the room was spinning. She stood and sighed, recognizing the familiar settings of her living room, then fell back onto the pillow she had set there the night before, noting the fact that she had gotten up too fast.

She checked the digital clock on the table box, which read 7:00 – in the morning. She rolled her eyes and rolled over, yawning. Too early. Her eyes fluttered shut again and she snuggled into the couch. At some point, she heard footsteps pad down the stairs, plant a light kiss on her temple, and the front door slam.

00

She woke up around eleven, wincing at the bright light in the living room. Even though she wasn't hung-over, it seemed as if her brain was extremely slow in processing things that morning.

She rolled off the couch, slowly collected the blankets and pillows, then padded her way to the laundry room in order to throw them in the washing machine.

After that, she meandered her way to her room, peeking in her room to find her bed made, an empty bucket, and the two aspirin she had laid out for him gone, in replace was a sticky note.

_Bells._

_Thanks for taking care of me last night._

_We still need to have a talk, though._

_I'll be back around noon._

_-Andrew._

She sighed, leaving the sticky note where it was, and collected a pair of jeans and an old crimson-colored long sleeved shirt, then made her way to the bathroom to shower and change.

00

Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed and out of the shower. Again, she descended down the stairs to the kitchen in order to scrounge for some food.

Charlie had left some coffee and two cups sitting by the coffee maker and a note, along with a halfway finished crossword puzzle.

_Hi Bells,_

_I hope you and Andrew had fun last night. _

_Went over to Billy's for awhile to catch up_

_& check on Sue Clearwater._

_See you around 5._

_Love, Dad_

She poured herself a cup of coffee, diluted it with an ungodly amount of sugar, and sat down to figure out the rest of the crossword.

While she was looking for a six-letter word that meant the opposite of exuberance, Andrew walked in the back door.

"Do you happen to know a six letter word for exuberance?"

He frowned, and she looked him over. He looked okay as opposed to his condition last night. He looked a lot cleaner in his old fitted black Libertines shirt and jeans. He set his guitar case down and made his way towards the other kitchen chair. "Um, hell, try apathy."

She counted the letters on her fingers and smiled, writing the word in. "Thanks." she said with a nod.

He shrugged, "No problem."

They sat there in silence for a good five minutes. She was the first to speak.

"So, you brought your guitar. Plan on playing anything?"

He shrugged, "Maybe."

"And you wanted to talk." she said with a nod.

He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, "Yeah. I did. I think its best we didn't do it in the kitchen, though. Your living room is more comfortable. And I have a feeling this may be a little drawn out."

She nodded and stood, heading towards the living room. He followed suit, bring his guitar with him. She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs Indian style. He fell back next to her and looked over at her.

"Well," he said. It sounded so final to her. "I saw you macking with Cullen last night. What the fuck, Bella? Seriously. I thought you were better than that. In fact, I thought you were going to be okay, and you know, make it out with a halfway decent and stable head on your shoulders. But apparently, I was wrong."

"What? Are you _serious_, Andrew? I did _not_ make out with Edward Cullen last night. He kissed _me_."

"Uh-huh. I bet."

"I'm _serious_, asshole." They were both standing now, in full fight mode.

"Oh, really, are you? Did you _feel_ anything, Bella? Get those little butterflies in your stomach?" he teased coldly.

"Hey, at least I didn't get completely trashed last night. Talk about your relapses. At least I'm not hung-over and off the fucking _wagon._ God, I would think that would take quite a shove for someone as self-righteous as you, you stuck up jackass. Think you're so good? At least I don't go off and get smashed when your friend kisses somebody. That's stupid."

He crossed his arms, "Oh, so you think this is about you? Please. You don't mean that much to me, Swan. And apparently you don't mean that much to Cullen, either, because he left your ass months ago, and now he's back and leaves you again."

She visibly winced. He struck a nerve. She bit her lip and scoffed, "If I were you," she bit off scathingly, "I'd get the fucking story straight. Apparently if you would have let me _explain_, instead of getting completely trashed so that you couldn't even see or stand. I told _Cullen_ to let me go, because if he did fucking love me, he'd let me go. Because I fully plan on leaving and going to Berkeley with you, instead of waiting around for him to ch—do something. And when he fucking _kissed_ me, I think I got an _ulcer_ as opposed to those so-called butterflies."

He cocked an eyebrow, "You told him if he _loved _you, he's _let you go_? Oh god, wow," he said between sarcastic laughter, "You're turning into a bit of a sentimental sap, aren't you, Swan?"

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Please, Kingston. You wish. At least I'm acknowledging the fact that I don't like Cullen anymore."

He laughed, "You never, ever forget your first love, Swan. Everybody knows that. It's kind of redundant."

She shrugged, "Who says I'm forgetting?"

He shrugged, "At least I can admit to myself that I like my best friend."

She frowned, confused, "Who's your best friend?"

Before she could even tell, she was being pushed against the back wall, Andrew Kingston's lips attaching to hers in a frenzied kiss.

And, yeah, for the record, she did like her best friend. She just couldn't admit it to herself for the longest time. When she finally came up for air, she stared into his bright green eyes and glared, "You're an asshole." she said bluntly, taking in a shaky breath.

He smirked, "Yeah, but I'm an asshole that likes you. And you're kind of a bitch, so I guess that makes us even"

She chuckled lightly and pulled him close to her again, their lips meeting and a small shock of electricity going through the both of them.


	23. Great Lakes, Great Escapes

**disclaimer:** uh, not mine.

**Author's Note:** Lalala. An Update. A filler chapter. On time. Be happy. It's taken me forever. And for that, I'm sorry. This story is close to being done. Two more chapters and an alternate ending, so that's three more. All of which should probably be done.. soon. hopefully. And, in other news, I'm legal now. and done with exams. and I can buy porn. And I'm still Yaris-hunting, even though my mom's all 'grr, you can't drive on the Interstate with a Yaris because it shakes and rararar.' You get it.

In other news... I'm teaching myself photoshop again this summer. Or, at least attempting to be familiar with it for next year. So, BANNERS! If you want a banner for any of your stories, message me. And I promise, they're good banners. I know my shite, brah.

and you know what else is kind of amazing besides banners and birthdays and stuff? feedback. feedback makes my day. and it's also kind of amazing. :)

* * *

_"Great Lake - I don't need a Great Escape.  
Tonight. I've got this city on my side.  
And in the end we'll burn in history.  
Yeah, I could fall in love with her tonight.  
I'm lost and found. So lost again.  
Nothing to do but keep on wandering.  
We can live with our mistakes.  
All my friends are going out tonight.  
And I can't sit here just waiting for another day to die...  
Fuck all this ancient history."_ – The Lawrence Arms

00

_Los Angeles, CA. Summer 2007._

Andrew Kingston shoved yet another box into the back of his BMW. His other car was already completely full to the brim with stuff—his, hers, _theirs_. Stuff they had bought for the apartment and for college. Plastic cups, dishes, tupperware, linens and other miscellaneous items that involved the whole 'moving in to an apartment' process.

Bella Swan slammed the passenger door to the Mercedes-Benz shut and sighed tiredly. They had spent the majority of the afternoon shoving boxes in both cars in order to make the trek to Berkeley the next day. "You know, I never knew we had this much stuff combined. It's kind of impressive," she said nonchalantly as she leaned against the car and stretched.

He just shrugged and closed the back door, "Maybe that normal pack rat girly thing is finally coming out of you."

She punched him lightly in the stomach and he wrapped his arm around her and looked down at her, smirk on his face. "So, college." he said, his tone final.

She nodded, "Yeah. College. Scary thought, huh?"

Andrew just raised his eyebrows, "Not particularly. We have an apartment… that's… paid for. And Berkeley is an awesome city. Good music scene, food… well, I guess now that we are going to college we'll end up being deadbeat starving college students now. So restaurants are out of the question."

She just shrugged and stretched, "I can live on Ramen."

He shook his head and looked up to the large house they were standing in front of; eyes squinted into the California sunlight, "Yeah. I think I can live on ramen, too. I guess we could splurge on Cable TV or Internet or something, right?"

She just shrugged and began heading back towards the large villa style house that towered over the two cars.

"You know," she says quietly and took his hand, "Your parents really aren't as bad as I thought they'd be. Minus the whole 'buying me a Mac laptop' and 'offering to pay my college tuition' thing.

He just sighed and looked over at her, "Well," he shrugged, "I guess they like you."

She shoved herself off the car and grinned sarcastically, "Maybe because I'm not intoxicated the majority of the time. And my boobs are real. And my air isn't dyed."

He just put his hands in his pockets and stared up at the sky, "It's the boobs." He said with a half smile and followed her inside, out of the sweltering California sun.

00

_Berkeley, CA. Spring 2008._

"Pre-Medicine?" Andrew asked as he looked up from his copy of _The Week_, the only form of political stimulation he chose to read, "You? You cringe at the _thought_ of blood, and you want to be a _doctor_? Since when did this happen?"

Bella shrugged, "There's a difference. Pathology and surgery are two entirely different things."

He raised an eyebrow and set his magazine on his lap, "Well, there's this thing called a residency, and it involves working in different places in a hospital after you finish med school. And I would pay money to see you dissect a cadaver. Plus, it takes like, eight year."

She shook her head and grinned, "Remember all those AP classes I took?"

He just went back to scanning an article about presidential hopefuls, "Briefly, yes. I remember taking a few with you."

"Well, seeing as I got all fours and fives on them, I have the prerequisites to apply to med school early, and I did. And… I got in. To UCLA. Med School. So technically, it's only eight years including residency and stuff…"

He lowered his paper and smiled, "Well that was pretty damn random of you, Bella."

She shrugged, "I was feeling spontaneous, so sue me."

He shook his head and stared at the apartment ceiling briefly, "Well," he said contemplatively, "My college-student-slash-up-and-coming-musician's salary could possibly cover rent in LA. Maybe. But you'd have to help. And we'd both have to go job hunting. Again. And you know how much I hate job hunting."

She shoved him in the shoulder and kissed his temple. "You're my hero, Andrew Kingston."

He smirked and gave an arrogant shrug, "Well, who else would I be? Your boyfriend?"

She ruffled his messy hair and rolled her eyes, "Well, you're already that, so I guess my hero will have to suffice…"

00

_Los Angeles, CA. Winter 2010._

Andrew Kingston meandered his way to his LA apartment, weaving his way through LA traffic, guitar and amp in the back of his old Mercedes-Benz station wagon.

To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. He was in a fabulous mood. Better than he had been when he and Bella had gotten him a kitten for his birthday and named it 'Telephone' just for him.

He all but skipped into their apartment, grinning wickedly.

"Guess what?" he asked as he flopped back on the couch where his girlfriend was studying how to properly diagnose some type of infectious disease.

She looked up from her spot on the futon-couch and set her large book on pathology on the floor, "What? Did you bring real food home?"

"No, but I probably should have done that…" he mused as he flopped back on the futon-couch/couch-futon, "But, an upside is that we're going to have a hell of a lot more money for food soon."

"Oh?" she asked, picking up her pathology book again.

He just nodded. "Remember that meeting I had to go to tonight?"

She frowned, "Vaguely. Yeah. You said it was important."

He nodded and scooped Telephone off the floor, "It was. And it helps our financial situation significantly."

She cocked an eyebrow, "Please don't tell me you decided to go into prostitution."

He contemplated the idea for a second, "Well, you could always switch your specialty from Pathology to Urology. I trust you with my man parts."

"God, no. Thanks, but no thanks. I mean, it's nice you trust me with your… er, man parts, but I'd rather not deal with anyone's… man parts. Ugh," she shuttered, "Grody."

He shrugged, "Fine. Suit yourself. Good thing I decided not to go into prostitution…"

"And why is that?" she asked, scanning a passage on Huntington's syndrome.

"Because you don't want to deal with man parts, and I couldn't get treatment for free."

She shot him a look of annoyance as she continued to read her medical text book. He had a feeling that they had started dissecting cadavers today, hence why she was in such a foul mood. Bella always hated dissection and cadavers. She was always stressed and quick to snap.

"Well, do you want to hear about the meeting or not?" he asked impatiently as he scratched Telephone's ears.

"I do," she said, looking up and ruffling his hair, "Tell me about your meeting."

"Okay, so, remember how I had that really important performance thing last week?"

She nodded and began scratching Telephone's ears as he spoke, "Well, anyway, there were lots of record executives there and I had a meeting with some of them tonight."

Bella's face broke out in a grin - she was happy for him. "And?"

He smirked deviously, "Thanks to Warner Brothers, we have a lot more money in the bank. And I have to report to their headquarters soon to record, so—"

He didn't even get that far before she had all but pounced on him due to her elation for him.

Hey, at least it was better than her being angry and annoyed with him for not doing a little bit of grocery shopping before he came home. And even though an angry Bella was a cute Bella, he didn't really being called 'Aspergillosis,' and numerous other infectious diseases. That happened every time that she would get mad at him. She's just go off on a rant and instead of calling him a 'bastard' or a 'jerk,' she would start sputtering out infectious diseases as insults.

But she was his Bella. And she could insult him in infectious disease form any day.


	24. Road To Joy

**Disclaimer:** If I was the owner of the Twilight franchise, I could buy myself a Yaris. However, I do not own the Twilight franchise. Or books. Or whatever. Therefore, I cannot buy a Yaris. Which makes me sad.

**Author Note**: This was delayed by two days. Why? Ten pages on word, my friends. and at the moment, my left leg is kinda numb and tingly. And I'm waiting for the new postsecrets to be out. Anyway, one more chapter until the story is over. Then there is an alternate ending, in which I will have to write an extremely long author's note for. I'm not really looking forward to that. But it's for your benefit. You won't know what the hell is happening if I don't. So, yeah, it's important. Also, there are three to five songs I suggest you limewire/youtube/find for this chapter. One: _Colorblind_ by the Counting Crows; Two: _Love and War (11/11/46)_ by Rilo Kiley; Three: _First Day of My Life_ by Bright Eyes; and Four: _Road To Joy_ by Bright Eyes.

feedback is awesome. I'd really appreciate it, too. I work hard, therefore I like constructive criticism, or no criticism, or flames. whatever. Have a lovely evening. :)

* * *

_"So I'm drinking, breathing, writing, singing  
Every day I'm on the clock  
My mind races with all my longings  
But can't keep up with what I got"_ – Bright Eyes, _Road To Joy._

00

_Los Angeles, CA. __Late December, 2011._

She never believed the song 'Colorblind' was any good, or much less beautiful, until he sat down at the piano and played it for her. She never knew he was a piano man, and she winced a little at the thought of how good he was.

She sat next to him and it felt all. too. familiar.

Her head rested on his shoulder as he played for her in their new apartment, which is a spacious modern artsy number. Too expensive for her taste, but she wasn't the one paying for it. She also wasn't the one who paid for the baby grand that was now sitting in their living room.

He finished the intro and began singing the words softly. His fingers moved softly and gracefully over the black and ivory keys. It had been months since she had seen him. He had been recording. Again. His first album was a hit, and his label was ecstatic to call him 'The New John Mayer.' She was just ecstatic he was home. Telephone missed him. She missed him. She even bought two goldfish so the apartment he bought after he signed his record deal didn't seem so empty, and even _they_ missed him. Sure, it was childish, but it made her feel better, and he thought the small goldfish bowl, and the goldfish themselves, added character. Go figure.

Not like she was there much, anyway. She was busy doing her residency at Cedars-Sinai. It was their life, though. And she was happy with that, even if he was gone sometimes.

_"I am covered in skin  
No one gets to come in  
Pull me out from inside  
I am folded  
And unfolded  
And unfolding"_

It was nice to hear his voice. She missed hearing it echoing throughout the apartment while he would attempt to write a song, or write some music. She liked hearing him sing, though. It was the equivalent of a life raft when she needed it. He shot her a raised eyebrow and a smirk as he continued to press the ivory keys, forming chords.

"_I am colorblind  
Coffee black and egg white  
Pull me out from inside  
I am ready  
I am ready  
I am ready  
I am fine"_

She closed her eyes and continued to listen, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He finally finished pressing the last few chords on to the ivory keys and looked down at her.

"You falling asleep, Bell?"

She shook her head, "That's a negative, ghostrider. I just missed you here, and hearing you sing."

Andrew just smiled and kissed her lightly, "Yeah, well, I kinda missed you, too. Just for the record. And also, I told you that song was good."

She nodded in agreement, "Beautiful."

He just grinned, "Yep. Just like you."

She scoffed and hid in the crook of his shoulder, emitting a muffled: "God, you are so corny."

He just kissed her hair and shrugged simply, "Yeah, well, I _am_ a musician, that's my job."

00

_Los Angeles, CA. March 2012._

Cedars-Sinai. Her place of residency. Bella sighed and looked over a patient's chart for the umpteenth time that day. She was eleven hours in to a shift, and had to make it through one more before she could go home and sleep.

The on-call room was packed that day, many residents were half dead and attempting to sleep before their beepers shrieked that a patient was in need again. Bella, of course, was running on caffeine and her own willpower, along with frustration for the fact that she couldn't figure out what was wrong with her patient.

She rubbed her temples tiredly and stared blankly at her chart. A cup of coffee was set in front of her and a smiling Kara sat down next to her.

She had met Kara on the first day of her residency. They were both focused on pathology and toxicology. Bella stretched and cracked her neck. Kara just laughed lightly and began scanning the patient's chart.

"Does medicine ever seem like a really, really bizarre foreign language to you? Like Mongolian, or something?" Bella asked, rubbing her temples and taking a drink of her coffee. She had opted for the eleven-to-eleven shift, eleven AM to eleven PM, probably not the best idea ever, but she was okay with that.

Kara laughed, "Uh, well, no, but then again, my shift just started. And I flat out refuse to hang out by the nurse's station. All they're doing is drooling over the new Andrew Kingston video. It's not a good working environment for me."

Bella just shook her head in amusement, "You just don't like nurses."

"Oh no, go see for yourself. It'll give you a good laugh." Kara noted, pushing Bella toward the door. Of course, she didn't really know about Andrew and Bella, but Bella figured she'd tell her eventually.

She rolled her eyes and shot Kara an annoyed look. The other doctor just grinned from ear to ear as she walked up to the nurse's station.

"Um, hey, Colleen? Do you have the test results for Mister Garcia, by any chance?" Bella asked, leaning against the counter and watching the three young nurses stare blankly at a computer screen.

"My god, he is beautiful." Colleen mused lightly as she stared at the computer screen.

"And that voice… my god." Another nurse – Amy, said, exchanging a look with the third nurse.

"Uh," Bella tapped her fingers on the countertop impatiently, "Guys? Test results? Guy who may have pancreatic cancer? I kind of need it? So he won't, uh, you know, die…" she trailed off, getting a bit more annoyed by the second. She really did need the chart, actually. It wasn't for pancreatic cancer, though. She was pretty sure of that, it was already marked off on her list of symptoms. But regardless, she still needed that godforsaken chart.

Finally, her annoyance took over, "COLLEEN." she seethed, and impatiently brought her fist down on to the plastic countertop.

"What, Dr. Swan? Jesus." the young nurse asked, as if Bella was the bane of her existence.

"Test results. Mister Garcia. I need them. Now. What are you guys _doing_, anyway? I mean, I've got a guy hanging by a thread, and I kinda need to figure out what's wrong with him so that he doesn't die and his family doesn't sue me. That's more important than whatever you're doing, unless someone has finally decided to blow up the world." she said, her annoyance and lack of sleep showing in her attitude.

"We're watching the new Andrew Kingston video for his new song." Colleen said in a 'duh' tone, then handed Bella the test results.

"What new song is it?" she asked out of curiosity. Andrew had mentioned something about hating filming videos, but said that he kinda like how the most recent one turned out.

"Monsters. It's the new one. Wanna see it?" Colleen asked, while Bella just shook her head.

"I have a patient to take care of, Colleen. That's much more important to me than some musician." Not like she hadn't heard the song ten times over. She remembered when Andrew had written it. He had been running on no sleep, and reading Anne Rice novels over and over again before the light bulb flashed. She, on the other hand, had just been reading and watching bogus reality shows. It was always best to leave Andrew alone when he was in writing mode.

The young nurse just rolled her eyes, grumbling something to the extent of "deprived." Kara bit her lip and smiled sheepishly as Bella walked back in to the on call room to go over the test results. She grasped her temples in frustration again and shook her head, "I don't get what the hell is wrong with this guy. I hope you're taking over for me, because this one's quite the case."

"Sounds like it. By the way, I snooped. You got mail." Kara said with a grin and handed Bella an envelope. It had at least ten stamps on it. He was in Italy now, after all.

She cocked an eyebrow at Kara, and then opened the envelope. He always sent her DIY post cards whenever he was out of the country. She had a collection of them in a shoe box under their bed.

Regardless, it was a post card of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The letters glued on to it spelled 'HELLO, I LOVE YOU ' and had magazine clippings of an old man in sunglasses and a Bermuda shirt in one corner, and a clipping of an old woman in a similar Bermuda shirt who was holding a camera, both had arrows pointing to them with 'THIS IS YOU' and 'THIS IS ME' written in capital letters in sharpie. It was so Andrew. She just shook her head and laughed, typical Andrew.

"_'Hello, I Love You?'_ Do you have a secret admirer, Bella?"

Bella rolled her eyes and shook her head, then read the back of the post card.

_Bella,_

_Did you know your nickname means 'Beautiful'_

_in Italian?_

_I think that's cool. You should too._

_Love,_

_Andrew_

_PS: I got you a coffee cup with a picture of the leaning tower on it_

_as a souvenir. I hope you like it. Or telephone does._

_See you in two weeks. _

_PPS: Watch MTV on Thursday night, you'll be entertained._

_At 10:30._

Kara cocked an eyebrow and flicked the TV in the on call room to on, then quickly scanned to MTV, then checked her watch.

"Two minutes. Sit." she said seriously and motioned for Bella to sit back in her chair.

The other doctor sat back in her chair, feeling more like a child who had lied about something and was now waiting to be punished. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed in annoyance, damn Andrew Kingston and his postcards that he would send to her via Cedars-Sinai.

Kara pulled an old office chair up next to Bella's equally ancient office chair and stared blankly at the TV until the credits for _'MTV: Diary'_ began to roll, and a voiceover began to play. Then, the new video for 'Monsters' opened up in credits and closed to a guy, more specifically, Andrew Kingston.

Kara looked over at Bella and arched an eyebrow. Again, the other doctor continued to shy away from the blonde doctor next to her. She only offered a sheepish and rather pathetic half smile.

Kara rolled her eyes, "Seriously? That look totally doesn't work on me."

Bella sighed and rubbed her temples again, for quite possibly the thousandth time in her twelve hour shift. "Can we please have this conversation when I don't have the world's largest headache and case from hell?"

Again, Kara shot her a glare, "Fine. But when were you planning on telling me you were _dating_ Andrew Kingston?"

Bella shrugged, "Sometime… not here…and I actually wanted you to _meet_ him before I told you I was dating him." Her eyes moved over to the TV, where Andrew was being shot buying post cards and paying for them, then grinning at the camera and offering an explanation. He also placed a coffee cup on the counter top and paid for both items.

She rolled her eyes, "What a ham. God. He should have been an actor instead of a musician."

"Do you even like your boyfriend's music?" Kara asked as she followed Bella out of the on call room so that she could check on her possible pancreatic cancer patient.

Bella just caught the elevator and shrugged, "Depends."

"On?" Kara urged, prompting an eye roll from her counterpart.

"How obnoxious he's been that day. Or week. Or whatever. When he was working on that one song for that video, I kind of wanted to sick Telephone on him. Not that Telephone would do much, by all means, but I was kind of hoping she would scratch his vocal chords, or something. Other times, it's really nice to hear him play. He's talented and exceptional at what he does." she answered tiredly as the elevator opened, "Why? Do _you_ like his music?"

She shrugged, "I liked his duet with Jenny Lewis. The cover of _Love and War._"

Bella laughed as she entered her patient's room, "Yeah, funny story about that," she said as she checked Mr. Garcia's vitals and scanned the beeping monitors and charts, then began looking at him carefully, observing his pupils, pulse, and a few other normal procedures, then proceeded to hand her chart to Kara.

"He's your problem now. Good luck," she said as she hung up her coat and stretched her arms towards the ceiling.

"What was the funny story about the duet he did with Jenny Lewis?" Kara asked, curious frown on her face.

Bella smirked slightly, "Birthday present. _Love and War_ is my favorite Rilo Kiley song."

00

_New York City, New York. 21 November 2012. Mid Day._

Andrew's hands covered her eyes as they entered a significantly warmer place. Bella was pleased to be out of the biting New York air. His gloved hands had been over her eyes for the past two blocks and she was getting sick of not being able to see.

"I have a semi-surprise for you." he said next to her ear, breath tickling it, causing her to shiver.

He uncovered her eyes and she looked around, "Where… are we?"

He grinned, "CBGB, of course. I have a kinda sorta unplugged show here tonight. And you get to come and hang out. Plus, I have a surprise for you anyway. A surprise part deux, if you will."

She rolled her eyes, "Impressive. Nothing lavish. No bling."

He nodded, "Of course not. It's a performance, why would I do anything lavish? Or give you bling? Unless you wanted a grill, or something, then I could probably arrange something…"

That earned him a punch in the shoulder and an annoyed sigh. "So, when does this unplugged show start?"

He shrugged, "A few hours. I have sound check in ten minutes or so. I figured you could probably just sit somewhere and look pretty."

She shoved him toward the stage where the rest of his band waited patiently, smiling sheepishly as they saw her, then sat by the stage and listened to him warm up for the show tonight. It would be nice for him, play a club show, especially at CBGB.

She listened to him strum his guitar and sing a few lines to a song into the mic. Her head rocked back and forth to the beat of the drums.

After everything was set up correctly and all the amps and microphones worked, Andrew and his band had a little pow-wow, which caused her to send the group an odd look that was a mix of curiosity and concern.

"You sure you wanna do this tonight, man?" his rhythm guitarist, Matt, asked quietly, "This concert is televised, after all."

Andrew shrugged and smiled sheepishly, "Well, I think it's about time, personally."

Matt just raised his eyebrows and smiled over at Bella, "Suit yourself, but I bet you'll get killed."

00

_New York City, New York. 21 November 2012. Evening._

Bella sat backstage and watched Andrew and his band perform to the best of their ability. The concert reminded her of the unplugged session for Nirvana, minus the world-renowned CBGB atmosphere.

It wasn't all unplugged, of course, right now Andrew had begun the intro to that godforsaken Anne Rice inspired song. She heard girls shriek in delight and frantically clap their hands along to the beat. She had been to many of his concerts and they were all the same to her – screaming girls, the stereotypical ballad-lighter move a la _Every Rose Has It's Thorn_, minus the Bret Michaels bandana. Andrew looked over at her and winked, which in turn, caused her to break out into a smile. After that, he went back to the chorus of his song.

Andrew took a drink from his water bottle and exchanged his electric guitar for an acoustic guitar, "Okay," he said to the audience, "So, there's a really special person here tonight. She's been there for me since, oh, hell, my senior year of high school. And she's my best friend-slash-partner in crime for even longer than that. So I want to introduce you guys to my girlfriend, Bella." he motioned for her to step out on to the stage, which she did sheepishly.

She had more clothing on the majority of the girls in the front row, a simple pair of jeans and a crimson colored long-sleeved shirt, along with a pair of converse all-stars. Ironically, she had never felt more self-conscious than she had at that exact moment.

He sat down on a stool, and motioned for her to sit on the one next to him.

"So, I'm going to play a song. And not just any song, or one I wrote. If you know the words, you should sing along. If not, just listen. _You_," he said, sending Bella a look, "especially. Should listen"

He began the chords of the song and paid attention to the strings he was pressing on. It was almost as nice as when he had played that Counting Crows song for her. It felt like it was just the two of them again, at home. With Telephone. And the two goldfish.

_"This is the first day of my life  
Swear I was born right in the doorway  
I went out in the rain, suddenly everything changed  
They're spreading blankets on the beach_

_Yours was the first face that I saw  
I think I was blind before I met you  
I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been  
But I know where I want to go"_

She smiled and sent him a look back, as soon as she realized the song he was playing. It was her favorite one. His version was even better than the original. She had heard him play it many times, usually by request from her. They would lie on the living room floor and he would just strum away. It was one of her favorite ways to spend an afternoon with him.

_"And you said  
"This is the first day of my life  
Glad I didn't die before I met you  
Now I don't care, I could go anywhere with you  
And I'd probably be happy"_

_So if you want to be with me  
With these things there's no telling  
We'll just have to wait and see  
But I'd rather be working for a paycheck  
Than waiting to win the lottery_

_Besides, maybe this time is different  
I mean, I really think you like me"_

As Andrew finished the song, he was turned toward her, playing the song for her and singing from his heart. At the end, he smirked. "Okay, so," he said, setting his guitar down in its stand and looking at her, "I'm kind of setting myself up for you to scream and yell and probably maul me. But it would be nice for you to… you know, not. And I'm doing this the proper way, too."

He got down on one knee and pulled a box out of his pocket.

She sent him a panicked look, which in turn just caused him to laugh lightly, "Isabella Swan. My partner-in-crime, best friend, girlfriend, and co-owner of Telephone and two goldfish," she nodded, smiling slightly, "Will you make a bunch of the women and teenage here bust into tears and marry me?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed, "I seriously can't believe you're proposing on National TV," he just cocked an eyebrow, "But yes, obviously," she said, almost tackling him in response, "Of course I'll marry you."

He grinned and slipped an extremely delicate diamond ring on her finger and embraced her, then picked up his guitar again to do what he did best.

_"The sun came up with no conclusions  
Flowers sleeping in their beds  
The city cemetery's humming  
I'm wide awake, it's morning_

_I have my drugs, I have my women  
They keep away my loneliness  
My parents, they have their religions  
But sleep in separate houses"  
_


	25. iQuit: An Author's Note

Well, it's that time again!

As most of you may have noticed, I've been MIA for the past, oh, hell, um... month or so. I still get e-mails of who has favorited my stories and well, me, as an author.

Which is flattering in its own way, and for those of you have favorited and given me feedback on TTHTRTW, OSM, and Cursive, you guys rule. Seriously. It's been awesome. And if I could, I'd send each and every one of you the new Alkaline Trio CD (which I highly suggest you pick up.) and a batch of home made chocolate chip cookies and/or pancakes. Really, I would. I mean, hell, TTHTRTW has 382 reviews. 382!! Holy shit. That's almost 400 reviews. Seriously.

I'm always stoked when I get at least one, which sounds kinda lame and all, but still. I love hearing what everyone thinks. I'm a listener by nature.

But regardless, back to the task at hand.

I've noticed over time that Twilight stories have gotten a bit redundant and unoriginal. When I wrote my first story, _Gravity Plays Favorites_, there were only around, oh, 800 or so Twilight stories out there. It wasn't hard to avoid cliches and be original, or fuck things up. And that was my sophomore year of high school. I haven't really read a good story since emilie whoa or simplykiwi quit writing. Not that I care, I haven't really read a Twilight story – Save for sillybella's _The Past Comes Back To Bite You_, in ages. And I really hope that doesn't offend anyone. I just have no desire to read Twilight stories. I really don't know why. None of them interest me. All the stories I've read have been really repetitive and cliché. And truth be told, I'm not interested in Jacob's wolfy goodness, or how Adonis/God-like Edward is. (I mean, really, I grasp the concept, and I'm sure you – whoever you may be, get it, too) And how much of a goody-two-shoes Bella is.

And with the release of Breaking Dawn…

Oh, christ. Seriously. I haven't bothered wasting my money on it. In fact, I spent thirty bucks on a nose piercing. Which didn't hurt, if you planned on asking. I passed Breaking Dawn on shelves in both Philadelphia and O'Hare international airports.

Each time, I've thought to myself: _'Should I buy this? I mean, I have like, six books in my backpack already, but still… should I?'_

The first time I saw it in Philly, I was hunting for the most recent copy of Rolling Stone. Because my friend said: _"Oh my god, The JoBros are on there, you have to buy it and tell me what the article says!!C'mon, PURITY RINGS!! You get a kick out of that shit!"_

Of course, I continued browsing around the little kiosk in search of my copy of Rolling Stone, and stumbled upon the book section, and Breaking Dawn. To which I said to my same friend, _"Oh, hey, Breaking Dawn is out today."_

And she said: _"You should buy it!"_

I remember kinda shrugging it off and telling her I was part of the way through a Hunter S. Thompson novel, and maybe I'd buy it in Philly or O'Hare when the time came, then found and bought my copy of Rolling Stone.

Over the week and a half I was in New York, she'd call me and update me on what was going on in the book, because I'm one of those people who really doesn't care about spoilers. We both giggled at the fact that it was so… ridiculous. Like a piece of bad fanfiction. (Okay, yeah, I said it, whip out your torches and pitchforks. Seriously, I don't care.) A Demon baby? That Jacob imprints on? Come _on_, you guys.

Jesus, we had a field day.

I've heard from so many people that I should just buy it for shits and giggles. However, I don't plan on it. I'd rather waste my money on a movie, CD, or a new pair of shoes.

And now, you're probably wondering why I'm posting this Author's Note.

To make a long story short: I quit.

And actually, you know, for realsies this time. No bullshit hiatuses where I change my mind and come back a few months from now. I have _**no desire whatsoever**_ to write Twilight stories anymore. I wrote TTHTRTW on a whim, and OSM was something more for me than anything else. I wrote it when I was going through a semi-tough time. Cursive, however, is a whole other ball game. Like TTHTRTW, it was written on a whim.

And really, I gave you guys an ending for this story. Andrew and Bella ride off into the sunset, Edward-less. I'm betting it's probably one of the few, or only stories where Bella doesn't end up with Edward _or_ Jacob. And I like that. I'm cool with it. I know I promised an Alternate ending for all you Edward-lovers, but I don't think it's needed. And frankly, I have no desire to write it.

I love all of my stories. Really, I do, and I'm leaving them all up for others to read and enjoy. But I have no desire to be a part of the Twilight community unless it's to discuss the books. And really, in my opinion, the first two are the only ones worth reading. I pop in randomly for the first time in... a while, and I hear about all this drama, and my question is—over what? The Lexicon's version of _Mein Kampf_? It's a freaking _book_, and it's fine and dandy to debate books, but when people start whipping out their claws and restricting the topics you can discuss? I'm done. Seriously. I'm just… done.

If any of you want to stay in contact, send me a PM and we can exchange myspaces/facebooks/e-mail addresses.

Regardless of that, I've moved on to Camp Rock. Yeah, you heard me right, Camp Rock. With the Jonas Brothers. -insert giggles here- I'm writing a story over there about an abortion. Because really? Satirizing purity rings and other things are more fun than creeper vampires. And If you're interested, go find it. I'll give you my pen name via PM. If not, thats fine by me.

I still wish everyone the best with their writing and such. I hope a few of you still enjoy Twilight.

Have an awesome year. And feel free to threaten my life in five, four, three, two, one...

now.


End file.
